Book 36 - Last Goodbyes
by GailDunn2
Summary: WARNING: MAY CONTAIN ADULT CONTENT. A Heavenly mission goes terribly wrong, triggering a major change in the status quo. The Winchesters and the Angels have to deal with the insanity that is Gail's family in their attempts to track her father and the others down, before it is too late.
1. For Absent Friends

Chapter 1 - For Absent Friends

The box was empty. Cas couldn't believe it. The box was empty!

For a moment, he just stood there, stunned. But...he'd seen the black smoke leave Nicole's body with his own eyes, and he had trapped it in this box with his own two hands. The words that Crowley had spoken had been the genuine exorcism invocation for driving a Demon out of a vessel. Cas knew they were. He had learned those words as a fledgling Angel, the same way that human children learned their ABCs in Kindergarten.

He thought back to the exorcism, going over every detail in his mind. Before it had begun, Crowley had spoken to Ammit in a language that Castiel had not understood. But Cas had spoken sharply to Crowley about that, and the King of Hell had apologized, saying that he had accidentally lapsed into another dialect for a moment. He'd claimed his recall for the Demonic exorcism phraseology was foggy. But the words had certainly rolled off his forked tongue once he had gotten started, hadn't they? Cas hadn't really thought anything of that particular fact, though, because he knew himself that sometimes things you'd learned by rote could come back to you years later, once you got going.

Cas looked down at the empty box he still held in his hands, thinking furiously. As the exorcism had been proceeding, at some point Cas had looked down at the dials on the box, releasing the white glow from his hands to unlock it, and then he had captured the black smoke in the box, and it had locked up tight.

Wait. Just wait. The smoke had been black. Black. Ordinary Demons' essences were black when they smoked out of their vessels, but: Ammit was a Demon Goddess. Crowley's essence was red. Admittedly, Cas had never seen the essence of a Demon God before, but now he was wondering if it worked the same way for Demons as it did for Angels. High-ranking Angels all had colourful essences. Cas's was white now because he was God, but his normal essence was coloured bright blue. Gail's was a luminous, sparkling gold, and Gabriel's was a rich, royal purple. Would Ammit's essence really be just a plain black, then?

Cas had been looking down at the box while the exorcism had been going on, working the locks to open it. He had only taken his eyes off of Crowley for a moment, but for Crowley, a moment was obviously all he'd needed.

Cas swore viciously, hurling the box at the wall, where it smashed to bits. Then he stood there breathing heavily for another moment or two. He could feel the blood rush through his head. He had never been this angry about anything in his entire existence. That duplicitous little troll. Well, this was it. Cas was done. He hoped that Crowley had enjoyed his deception, for it would be his last.

Gail was waiting right outside the room where the soul incinerator was located, but like the annex to the weapons room, she didn't have the security clearance to enter. Cas had told her about his intentions as soon as they'd left the bunker, and she had been all for it. A bird in the hand was worth two in the Caribbean, to paraphrase. Who cared what the so-called agreement had been? She was absolutely thrilled that Cas was going to renege on the deal, and dispose of Ammit right away.

But when he came out of the room, shaking with rage, her heart sank into her stomach. "The box was empty," Cas told her, his jaw clenching. "Crowley double-crossed me. He has gotten away with way too much for far too long. I'm putting a stop to it, right now. I'm going to Hell immediately, and I'm going to kill him. That's it, Gail. It's enough."

She was alarmed. "But, Cas - "

"No. No 'buts'," he said, holding up his hand. "My word is the Word. This has been a long time coming, Gail. He is finished."

She was getting really agitated now, because she could see that he was deadly serious. And it certainly wasn't as if she had a problem with Crowley being dead. No; far from it. Her concern lay with Cas now. She knew he was God, but: "All right, Cas. OK," she said, trying to calm him down. "But, let's just talk about this for a minute. Are you talking about a Holy War? Are we really going down that road again?"

Cas hesitated. "No. No. Why? If I kill Crowley, there will just be another piece of filth to take his place."

While Gail stood there, debating whether she should bring up the "Devil you know" argument, or even if she wanted to, Cas frowned, looking thoughtful. "But, you could have a point," he remarked softly. "I don't wish to start a Holy War. That is not my intention."

Gail started to feel relief now. Thank goodness. That was what she had been afraid of. Now, she could work on calming him down.

"I just sent a message to every member of the Academy faculty to meet us in my original Academy classroom," Cas told her. Then he grabbed her hand and winked them over there, and an instant later, the instructors started popping in. Gail was somewhat surprised to see Linda and Gabriel among their number.

"We had to open up a couple more Academies while you two were on Earth, and Gabriel and I have been subbing in until you got back to appoint more instructors, Cas," Linda told him.

"What do you need, Bro?" Gabriel asked affably.

"I'm going down to Hell to kill Crowley, and I called you all here to find out if anyone will volunteer to come with me, as a show of force," Cas said bluntly. "I will kill the King of Hell, and we will warn the rest of the vermin that if any retaliatory action is taken, we will return, and vanquish every single one of them. They will be free to appoint another King if they wish, but if there is any sort of uprising, I will set the Kingdom to burn. However, I will not order any of you to come, if you don't want to. Just know that I may have to call for conscription, if whomever succeeds Crowley makes a strike."

The room was completely silent for a moment, as the shocked Angels tried to process what Cas was saying. Some of them were looking at Gail, and her lips were pressed together tightly in frustration. Cas was scaring her, but she didn't necessarily want to argue with him in front of his faculty, either.

She made eye contact with Gabriel, trying to send him a non-verbal message. To her relief, it appeared to work. The Archangel stepped forward, scrutinizing Cas's face closely. Then he said: "When do we leave?"

Gail's jaw dropped. "What? What are you talking about?" she said angrily, approaching Gabriel. "Are you crazy?"

He backed up a couple of steps, holding his hands up as if preparing to defend himself. "Whoa, there. Take it easy, Kitten."

"I will NOT take it easy!" she exclaimed. "Has everyone here lost their damn minds, all of a sudden? Are we really talking about storming into Hell and assassinating the King? Who here doesn't think there won't be a Holy War if we do that?"

"It doesn't matter," Gabriel said calmly. "Crowley's gotta go. I'm backing Cas."

"Oh, since when did you become Rambo?" she said sarcastically.

"Look, Gail, I don't care whose brother he is; Crowley has been skating on thin ice for...forever," Gabriel shot back. Then he realized that might have sounded a little harsh, so he added with a half-smile, "And considering where he hangs out, I'm surprised he even owns a pair of skates."

As Gail glared at Gabriel, Linda piped up, "I agree. "Everyone here knows the rotten things he did to Kevin, and to me. I'll come. Gladly. In fact, I'll hold him down for you, Cas."

The other Angels all started to weigh in, one by one, and they all backed Cas. Gail felt like she was the only one in the room who was thinking logically at the moment. In desperation, she grabbed Cas's arm and winked him into his office.

"Cas, please," she begged. "You know this has got nothing to do with Crowley being my brother, or yours, or anything like that. But to storm into Hell like this over an empty box is insanity."

"You and I both know it's not over an empty box," Cas said sharply. "The empty box is just the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back."

She clutched at him. "Please don't do this, Cas. It's a bad idea."

Cas pulled his arm out of her grasp. "You may wait here," he told her. "I would not subject you to being there again. When I see you next, I will have his blood on my blade."

"Cas..." she wailed, but she had run out of things to say, and he wasn't budging, anyway.

"How many days were you in Hell?" Cas asked her now. "Better still, how many hours of torment did he subject you to, while you were there? He will receive a wound for every one of those hours, and after I have watched him suffer accordingly, I will smite him, and end him once and for all. Then, I will come back here and show you that I am a man of my word."

Gail let out a frustrated breath. It was obvious that she wasn't going to be able to deter him this time, no matter what she said or did. So she laughed humourlessly. "Yeah. Right. As if I'm staying here," she said to him. "As you're well aware, I'm quite familiar with the place. If some of the young guys like Riley and Efram insist on going, give them to me, and I'll lead them. Then give some of the others to Gabriel. We can form squadrons, and guard against attacks. Lots of Demons there hate Crowley, so if we tell them we're there to assassinate him, they might not engage with us. They might even help us. But I'm sure he's going to have his defenders too, Cas. He might even have an Army that exists just to guard him. So if an Army descends, those young Angels can have all the training in the world, but what actual, practical fighting experience do they have? So, a couple of them fought a few Demons at Frank's place; so what? Aside from Ethan, we've got a bunch of neophytes." She sighed heavily. "Look, Cas, if you insist on this madness, I'll come along and do my part, to try to make sure all of our friends come back safe. I won't fight you anymore. I'll save all of my fighting for Hell."

He looked at her with an expression which was both grim and loving, at the same time. For an instant, Gail hoped that she had finally gotten through to him. But she meant what she'd said. If they were actually going to go through with this, they needed to present a united front. And this was Cas, after all. As long as Gail had known him, it had been Gail and Cas, Cas and Gail, united, standing up to and against their enemies. This was the King of Hell they were talking about. Of course they should kill him. Gail knew whose side she was on. She knew whose side she would always be on.

But: "Then let's go, my love," was all Cas said. He took her hand, gave it one brief squeeze, and winked them both back to the Academy.

While Cas and Gail were gone, Gabriel instructed the Angels to stay put while he left too, to run a quick errand. "Are you going to see Liz?" Linda asked him.

"What? No! Why should I?" Gabriel shot back, and then he stopped short. "Why? Should I?" he asked her in a more subdued tone.

Linda shrugged. "I don't know, Gabriel. I just thought you might want to tell the woman that you're in love with that you're going on a potentially deadly raid into the bowels of Hell."

Gabriel looked at her. "OK, first of all: Archangel," he said sassily, gesturing to himself. "And, secondly, should I read anything into the fact that I don't see you rushing to tell Paul the same thing?"

She remained silent, and he let out a slow breath. "OK, OK," Gabriel said. "But actually, you can come with. It'll go quicker if I have help."

An instant later, they were outside Heaven's weapons room. "Normally, you wouldn't have the clearance to get in here, but I might know a trick or two that'll bypass the security system," Gabe said to Linda. "Don't tell Cas." He fiddled with the door for a moment, and it swung open. "Et voila."

The two of them entered the room, and Linda looked around in amazement. "Wow," she commented. "I had no idea that all these things were here."

"Most Angels don't," Gabriel remarked. "A short while back, when I thought Cas was going to declare the Holy War, I popped in here to do a quick inventory. We've got loads of Demon knives. I figured we should all have one, in case Crowley's men get a little stabby."

Linda caught Gabriel by the arm. "Is that what you think this is?" she asked him bluntly. "Do you think we're starting a Holy War?"

Now it was Gabriel's turn to be silent, mainly because he didn't know what to say. WAS that what was happening here? Or were they merely going to Hell to take care of something that should have been done centuries ago?

He deflected the question by asking her one of his own: "Does Kevin really think he's gay, Linda?"

She did a double-take. "What does that have to do with - " Then, Linda realized what Gabriel was doing. He was evading the question she had asked him, because he was too afraid of what the answer might be. She sighed. "I think he's struggling with his identity, Gabriel," Linda answered honestly. "I don't even think HE knows, right now."

Gabriel nodded. He could actually relate to that. He too was struggling a bit right now, with the duality of his own personality. Gabe wanted to be a good guy; he truly did. But every once in a while, he strained at the leash. That was why he had worked so hard on Cas for all of those years, because Gabriel could smell the potential for rebellion in his Brother. It took one to know one, as the saying went. But now, Cas was Heaven's ultimate authority figure, and Gabe was in a monogamous relationship, with a virtual Saint. What had happened to them? Maybe that was why Gabriel was so anxious to go along on what was basically a fool's errand. Maybe he just felt the urge to go kick over a few garbage cans, and yowl at the moon for a while.

The two of them loaded up on Demon knives, and then Gabriel looked at the door that led to the annex. "Hold on," he said to Linda, edging over to it. "I won't be able to get you in there, but I just want to have a quick look. See if there's anything we might want to bring."

But as soon as Gabriel went up to the door and touched it, a loud alarm sounded, and Cas appeared instantly.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked his Brother, waving his hand to shut off the alarm bells.

"What's it look like?" Gabriel said, annoyed. "We're going to tangle with the King of Hell, one of the oldest and evil-est beings there is. I just thought we could use a little extra firepower."

"Well, we don't need it. I am the Lord God," Cas said sternly. He looked at Linda. "How did SHE get in here?"

"What's with the alarm, all of a sudden?" Gabriel countered.

"I thought it would be prudent, after that little surprise of Raguel's," Cas said. "We don't need him waltzing in there and taking another Holy weapon to use against us."

"Oh." Gabriel realized that that actually made a lot of sense. And it was just as well, really. Those nukes were nothing to mess around with. He nodded his approval. "Good job, your Godship. That's some smart thinking, there."

"I'm so glad you approve," Cas said dryly. "And now, I'm going to ignore the fact that you never answered my question about how you got Linda in here, and urge you instead to get a move on. Everyone is waiting."

"Linda, can you go back to the Academy and tell them we'll be right there?" Gabriel asked her. "I need to talk to my Brother here, for a second."

Linda popped out, and Gabriel regarded Cas for a moment. "What are we doing, Cas?" the Archangel asked him.

Cas frowned. "What do you mean? Are you having second thoughts? No one is compelling you to go, Gabriel. I meant what I said: everyone is free to make their own choice. I'll go alone, if I have to."

"No, you won't," Gabriel said pointedly. "Gail is coming with you, isn't she? Let me guess: you told her to wait here, and she told you to forget that noise. Am I right?"

Cas looked uncomfortable now. "What of it?"

"Is this about doing the right thing, Cas?" Gabriel asked, scrutinizing his Brother's face. "Or, is it just straight-up revenge?"

"I told you, you don't have to come," Cas said evasively.

"That's what I thought," Gabe said, nodding, as if Cas had answered his question. "Well, let's go, then."

Cas was surprised. "You're still coming?"

Gabriel gave him a half-shrug. "'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord'," he remarked, projecting a calm he didn't feel. "I promised my allegiance to you, didn't I? What kind of a man would I be if I crapped out on you now?" A smart one, the little voice in the back of his head said, but Gabe told it to take a hike. He and Castiel were saddling up to take a ride that had been thousands of years in the making, and the Trickster in Gabriel thought it was about damn time.

He clapped Cas on the shoulder. "Come on, Cisco. Let's go wrestle some Demons."

Gail had been talking quietly with a few of the instructors while waiting for the men to come back. She and Linda had been passing out the Demon knives and Gail had been doing a bit of an informal poll, to see how everyone was feeling about what they had just volunteered for. It was fantastic that they all wanted to throw their support behind Cas, but she wanted to make sure that they were fully aware of what they were signing on for.

Ethan was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. While she and Cas and Gabriel and Linda had been away, he had stepped up as a de facto leader. Because Ethan had the law enforcement credentials, and the experience fighting Lucifer's death squads, he had already divided the Angels up into three squadrons, proposing that he, Gabriel, and Gail head one each. They would flank Cas, protecting him until he was able to penetrate the inner sanctum of Hell, where Crowley's office was located. But they would not actively fight; not unless Cas said so. They were merely there to provide back-up. As Cas had said, a show of force.

But as Gail handed the Demon knives to Ethan to distribute to his squadron, they were looking grimly at each other. Besides Riley, and Cas himself, they were the only members of this whole group who knew first-hand what the year of the death squads had been like. It may not be their intention to start anything, but these knives they were giving everyone were designed to kill Demons. That was their whole function. If they were just going to fight, and to wound, their Angel blades would have sufficed.

Apparently, that was the impression that Pamela was under, because Linda saw the instructor tuck her Angel blade into her pants. "Here," Linda said, handing the young woman a Demon knife. "Just in case. Do you know how to use it?"

Pamela gave her a withering look. "It's a knife, isn't it?"

Linda took a deep breath. She didn't like this one. Linda hadn't forgotten the day that they had all been training here, when Gail had been in that compound. Cas had obviously read Pamela's thoughts and dropped her on her ass that day, but the woman hadn't let that deter her. She had said a few rotten things about Gail after that, and Cas had had to have her taken out of the room before he really lost his cool. Then, Linda heard that Pamela had been stalking Cas during Gail's forced six-month marriage to Dean, like a lioness at a watering hole. After her first foray to Cas's office, Gabriel, Liz, Linda and a few other Angels in their circle had begun to conspire to keep an eye on Pamela, and make sure she stayed away from him. But Linda didn't like the gleam she saw in Pamela's eyes right now. When Linda had been a little girl, her family had owned an old cat that used to sit on the porch of the house and watch the birds, flying around their yard. That cat was too old to go chasing around after them, yet it watched the birds avidly, with the very same gleam in its eyes that Linda was seeing in Pamela's now.

Ethan had everything well in hand, so Gail moved on to Riley and Efram. She was happy that Ethan had assigned both of the young Angels to her squadron.

"Here, let me take those from you," Riley said, springing forward to relieve Gail of her handful of Demon knives. She smiled at him. There was no sense trying to tell him that they weren't very heavy, or that she had planned to distribute them to her squadron herself. Riley's hero worship of Cas was so ingrained that it extended to gentlemanly, solicitous behaviour towards all women, especially towards Gail.

As Riley handed out the knives, Gail touched Efram lightly on the arm. "How are you doing?" she asked him. The young Angel looked a little paler than usual, although what Gail was seeing was obviously a figment of her imagination, because Angels' complexions didn't change in that manner.

"All right," Efram said tersely.

"Are you sure?" Gail persisted. "You know, there's no shame in being afraid, Efram. I've had all too much experience with this kind of stuff, and I'm terrified."

He looked at her. "I'm not scared, Gail. Not at all. I'm excited. Finally, I get a chance to serve Heaven. To serve Cas. My Gramps fought in the war, and when he was in the hospital years later, dying of cancer, I used to go read to him, and spend time with him. He always told me that war was a terrible thing, something to be avoided at all costs. But, he also said that he never felt more honourable than when he was standing up for what was right. I'm looking forward to feeling honourable, Gail."

She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, but now, Gail was also rethinking her previous objections to their mission. Efram's grandfather had a good point about doing what was right. How could killing the King of Hell not be the right thing to do?

Cas and Gabriel returned, and Ethan told Cas about his organization of the Angels. Cas nodded approvingly. "Is everyone ready?" he asked the Angels. But as they all murmured their assent, Cas's cell phone rang.

Cas popped himself out to the hallway to take the call. "Is everything all right, Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas," his friend replied. "I was calling to ask you the same thing. You were just gonna cremate the bitch, and then you and Gail were supposed to come back and we'd all go to Quinn's. What's taking so long?"

Cas's lips pursed tightly together. That was right, too. In his zeal to take care of Crowley, he had forgotten about that. "I'm sorry, Dean, but Gail and I have been detained. How is Nicole?"

"She's fine, Cas," Dean said with a trace of a smile. "She doesn't remember a damn thing. You guys should market that memory modification thing. You'd make a fortune. Can you imagine how much guys would pay to have you do it to their wives, when the guys screw up? Oops, better not tell Gail I said that. It's probably sexist, or something." Dean was babbling now. He was just so happy that Nicole was herself again, and that she didn't remember anything about having been possessed.

Cas let out a breath. They were wasting time on idle chit-chat now. "We'll be busy for a while, Dean," he said, eager to conclude the call. "Why don't the three of you go ahead to Quinn's, and see if you can talk to Oliver? We'll be in touch once we're finished with what we have to do."

"What do you have to do, Cas?" Dean asked him, curious. Cas sounded kind of funny now. "How long does it take to barbecue a Demon bitch, anyway?"

"Go to Quinn's," Cas said shortly. "We'll talk later." Then he hung up.

Cas stood there for a moment with the phone in his hand, looking at it. Why had he not told Dean about any of this? Would Dean not have supported Cas's decision, one hundred percent? They had talked about killing Crowley for years and years. But, his conversation with Gabriel had gotten in Cas's head now. He was convinced that they were doing the right thing, but: were they doing it for the right reasons? Was THAT why Cas hadn't told Dean about the mission? Because he didn't want his friend asking him the same questions that Gabriel had?

No. No. Cas had right on his side. He had to have the strength of his convictions; otherwise, what kind of leader was he? He popped back into the Academy.

Quinn opened the door, surprised to see Nicole standing there with the Winchesters. But no Cas, and no Gail. What the hell?

Sam saw the confused look on her face. Under ordinary circumstances, he would probably have teased her about the fact that, as a psychic, she should know why Cas and Gail weren't with them. But these weren't ordinary circumstances. In fact, they were about as far from ordinary as you could get. Nicole was here with them, about to receive her first formal introduction into the supernatural realm. Sam still wasn't sure that bringing her here was such a good idea, but Dean hadn't wanted to leave his girlfriend alone in the bunker, not so soon after her ordeal. Not that Nicole could remember anything about it, of course. The last she remembered, they had all been hanging around in the kitchen, about to discuss what to do for breakfast. Dean had told her that Cas and Gail had been called up to Heaven on some kind of Angel emergency, and Cas had said for them to go ahead without him and Gail. They could stop by the diner first, for a quick bite.

Nicole was pleased to have been included on their excursion. She knew Quinn, of course, although the two of them weren't really in touch with each other anymore. Part of the reason was Nicole's hectic work schedule, but things had undoubtedly soured between them when Quinn had told the Winchesters that she'd had a vision of Nicole, sitting on top of Dean and ripping his heart out of his chest, with clawlike hands. Nicole had tried to have a sense of humour about it, but it bothered her. She'd thought that Quinn was her friend. Then, why would she say something like that? From what Nicole had read about psychics, if she even believed in that sort of thing, she knew that they weren't right all of the time. She saw the headlines on those stupid tabloids every time she stood in a lineup at the supermarket, especially near the end of the year. Psychics, predicting earthquakes, alien invasions, and Jesus Christ's return. They were pretty safe with earthquakes, or other natural disasters; those happened all the time. But last Nicole looked, no UFOs had landed, and the only time she'd seen Jesus Christ had been in a local production of Jesus Christ Superstar she'd gone to at the Vancouver Playhouse. Still, Quinn's vision had been disturbingly specific, and specifically disturbing.

Quinn was looking at Nicole now, and both women were uncomfortably sizing each other up. Actually, Nicole didn't know if she really needed to make nice with Quinn, or not. Dean had advised Nicole that his brother and the psychic were definitely broken up. Nicole had been present for their fight at Cas and Gail's party, but she knew that sometimes, couples made up after fights like that. However, it seemed as though Quinn had washed her hands of all of them, and that was probably just as well, given what Sam had confessed to that night.

But Quinn greeted the three of them cordially enough, inviting them to come in. Maybe it was because Gail wasn't with them, Nicole thought, suppressing a grin. Now she was wondering about that "urgent business" in Heaven. Gail was hardly the shrinking violet type, but Nicole wondered if she and Cas hadn't decided to just give this meeting a pass, anyway.

Quinn knew that wasn't the case. She had a tickle of an inkling as to what might actually be occupying Cas and Gail right now, but there were so many thoughts and feelings doing battle inside her head right now that there wasn't much room for the Angels. Not yet.

As Quinn led her guests to the living room of the house, she was overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. She really did miss Sam. He was a sweet guy, and she knew he really did feel badly about the way things had gone that night. Quinn had been understandably angry, but maybe she had been a little too hard on him, as well. It wasn't as if she hadn't known how he felt about Gail. Quinn had known that all along, from the first day that she and Sam had met. Yet, she'd still gone out with him. Had she been hoping that Sam's feelings would change as time went by? Of course she had. But what had made the fact that they hadn't suddenly unacceptable to her? Was it any wonder that Sam was feeling penitent, but also confused?

Nicole's presence was really starting to bother Quinn, because the psychic still couldn't get that vision of Nicole ripping Dean's heart from his chest out of her mind. But, Nicole's hands weren't claws, and Dean's chest was unscarred. Why, then, was Quinn feeling so creeped out by Nicole?

She was also getting a weird vibe from Dean, and it was arguably the weirdest one of them all. Quinn saw Dean and Gail, standing in front of some kind of officiant, and Dean slipping a gold wedding band on Gail's finger. What the hell was THAT, now? Maybe she was losing her mind. But, these visions were some of the strongest ones she'd ever had.

And now, as they all prepared to take their seats, Quinn reeled, and Sam leaped forward to catch her before she fell to the floor. "Dead Angels," she gasped. "Demons. Blood. Too late. It's too late."

Then everything went black, and Quinn passed out in Sam's arms.

Initially, Gail had thought that they were going to get in and out with no trouble.

Before they'd left Heaven, Cas had instructed the Angels to be as stealthy as possible once they got there. Crowley was the target. Crowley, and Crowley alone. There was no need for any other casualties. If there was any trouble, the soldiers were to call their squadron leaders, who would deal with it accordingly. But the objective was to get in, back Cas up while he made his way to Crowley's office to perform the assassination, and then to get back to Heaven, ideally, with everyone intact.

But as they all knew, the best laid plans were just that. Things seldom worked out as smoothly as that in real life. Still, Gail was starting to feel more and more confident with every quiet footstep she and her squad made down the hallway towards Crowley's office. The corridors had been almost eerily deserted, like most city streets early on New Year's Day. Could the Demons somehow sense Cas's presence, or that of the Angels, even though Cas, Gabriel and Gail had combined to shield all of them before they'd left Heaven? And, if so, were they staying away out of fear, or in hopes that Cas had come there to do what he had come there to do?

They had negotiated the labyrinth separately, but as they reached the last fork which led to the Kingdom's inner sanctum, the three squads came together in a large common area. Gail raised her blade to point to the correct corridor, but Cas gave her a curt nod, already heading in that direction.

The Angels stood there in silence, wondering what they should do now. The squadron leaders exchanged looks. Should they follow Cas, or should they wait for him here?

Ethan was starting to feel hinky. This had "setup" written all over it. He gestured wordlessly to Gabriel and Gail, and after a moment's deliberation, they both nodded. Ethan led the way down the hall that Cas had taken.

But the instant his foot hit a certain stone halfway down, the assault was on. Demons began to pop in out of nowhere, and they were all armed with Angel blades. They went for the Angels immediately, with no preliminary. Luckily, the Angels had all been on high alert, and their training and instincts kicked in now.

One of the Demons lunged for Gail, and she sidestepped him neatly, giving him a hard shove into the wall. She sunk the Demon knife she was holding deep into his chest, then pulled it out immediately and stabbed him in the abdomen before he fell. She twisted the knife and then pulled it upwards, eviscerating him.

Another Demon tried to attack Gail from her flank side, and she smiled grimly. "I guess you haven't heard, but that's no longer a weakness of mine," she said tartly. She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards her. Assailants never expected that. He lost his balance, falling right onto her upraised knife. "Thanks for the assist," she said dryly, letting him drop to the corridor floor to join the other one.

Fights had broken out all up and down the hallway now. Gail ran over to help Riley, who was fighting off three Demons at once.

Meanwhile, Gabriel had two of the biggest and ugliest Demons he'd ever seen cornered. He extended his arms to knock them into a new area code, and...nothing happened. They smiled slowly at each other, and then at him.

"His Majesty's hallway is protected by ancient sigils," another Demon told Gabriel, sauntering up to the trio. "I'm surprised you wouldn't know that, Gabriel."

The Archangel sneered at him. "Hakeem. Long time, no smell. How've things been here for you? Unbearable, I hope."

"Still with the same smart mouth," the Demon said. He looked at the two large Demons, who were part of Crowley's personal security detail. Hakeem gestured to Gabriel. "This one is to be taken alive," he instructed them. Then he pointed to Gail, who was halfway down the corridor fighting alongside Linda and Efram now. "So is that one. God's wife." He grinned. "That doesn't mean you can't rough them up a little, though. Everyone else dies." He looked at Gabriel again. "I'll see you again soon, and then we'll talk about that little disagreement we had, way back when. I'll prepare the Executive Suite for you and the Angel Gail. Where is Castiel?"

"Up your rear end," Gabriel shot back. "I don't need my powers to deal with these big apes, anyway."

"Really? Now this, I have to see," Hakeem said with amusement. He crossed his arms, leaning against the corridor wall.

Aw, crap. The Demons were looming over Gabriel now. One musclebound guy grabbed his arm and twisted viciously, making him drop the Demon knife. Then he held Gabriel's arms behind him, none too gently, as the other one punched Gabriel in the stomach, and then in the face.

"Nice job," Hakeem said sarcastically. "Once you're finished 'dealing with' Crowley's guards, we'll see you in the Executive Wing. I can't wait." Then he vanished.

The Demon drew back his arm to punch Gabriel once more, but then the guy stiffened, and Gabe saw the glow come out of his eyes and mouth. The behemoth dropped to the ground, and Gabe could have sworn he felt the ground shake. Linda was standing there holding a bloody Demon knife, grinning. She reached into her pocket and took out the plastic squirt gun she'd slipped in there before they had left Heaven. The Demon who was holding Gabriel's arms began to laugh. "What's that?" he asked Linda. "A toy? Is that supposed to scare me?"

"No, it's supposed to burn the crap out of you, you black-eyed bastard," she retorted, squirting the Holy water in his face. He screamed, letting go of Gabriel to clutch at his eyes.

Gabe wheeled around and stabbed the giant in the chest with the back-up Demon knife he'd stuck in his belt when they were divvying up the weapons in Heaven, and the Demon went down like a ton of bricks. "Thanks, Linda," Gabriel said, breaking into a grin. "I'm gonna have to come up with a nickname for you, like I have for Gail. How do you feel about Super Soaker?"

Linda rolled her eyes. "Let's work on that. Speaking of Gail, we'd better go see if she needs help. Last I saw, she and Pamela and Riley were around the corner, fighting their way through to Crowley's office. Hurry up! Let's go!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Gabriel said, sketching her a salute. He bent down and picked up the other Demon knife he'd been carrying, the one that big gorilla had made him drop, and tucked it in his pocket, for insurance. Linda was already running down the corridor. Gabriel grinned, hustling after her. This was a whole new side of Linda that he was seeing, and he liked it. Boy, Heaven sure had a lot of strong women now. Not like when he was there before, when most of them had been submissive to men. Screw that. Who the hell wanted that? There was nothing more attractive to Gabriel than a woman who wouldn't put up with his crap.

And, speaking of which...he and Linda rounded the corner and spotted Gail, finishing off another Demon. She looked up at Gabriel.

"I've got some good news, and some bad news," Gail called out to the Archangel. "The bad news is: our powers are useless here."

"I know. That's how I got this," Gabe said, pointing to his bleeding mouth.

"But, the good news is that they've been instructed not to kill you, or me. So get over here, and help me protect our friends. I've been trying to stand in front of everybody, all at once."

Linda had already joined in the fight, and the Demons' numbers seemed to be dwindling now. Gabriel grinned. They just might get through this okay, powers or no powers. He rushed over to fight beside Gail, who was standing in front of a couple of young instructors, who were holding their own. Actually, it looked like everyone was using their training to its full potential. Cas would be very proud, Gabriel thought, wondering if their fearless leader had reached Crowley's office yet.

Cas had, and he was the only Angel whose powers were not negated by the ancient sigils, because Godly powers trumped everything. So he had burst into Crowley's office and conjured up ropes, chains, handcuffs and leg shackles, binding the King to his office chair.

Crowley had seemed strangely calm, almost as if he had been expecting Castiel. And perhaps he had. He knew his brother very well, and he had to have known that there would be consequences to aiding and abetting Ammit's escape.

Not that the King was admitting to that, of course. When Castiel made the accusation, Crowley had played innocent. "I don't know what could have happened, Castiel," he claimed. "I'm just as in the dark as you are. I really thought she was in that box."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Cas snarled. "Then, where did she go, if not in you?"

Crowley shrugged. "How should I know? Maybe the bunker has a ventilation problem. You'd better talk to the boys about that." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Why the panic, Castiel? Why do you want to get rid of her so badly?"

"That's my business, not yours," Cas said, tight-lipped. "But, it doesn't matter. Not to you, at least. I came here to kill you, and I intend to do it."

"Don't tease, Castiel," Crowley said dryly. "You've been promising to do that for years, yet you've never followed through. We all know what's going to happen here. You'll rattle your sabre, I'll respond with some witty repartee, maybe throw in a few innuendoes about your wife - excuse me, fiancee - and then, we'll call it a day. But, I have to warn you: you don't want to tarry too long. Right now the King's Guard are extending the warmest of welcomes to your Angel brigade. I must admit, your staff are acquitting themselves very well at the moment, even the youngest ones. They get younger and younger every year, don't they, Cas? Or maybe we just get a little older, every year. In any event, I wouldn't leave them out there too long, if I were you. The first wave is nearly all gone, but I have reinforcements lined up. Your people are vastly outnumbered here. This is my home turf, as the expression goes. If you really wanted to kill me, you should have cut me off from my people. Yes, there are a fair amount who hate me here, but I have more than my share of supporters, too. I have offered a hefty reward for each Angel kill, and Demons are a greedy bunch. Oh, but don't worry; I've left instructions for Gail and Gabriel to be taken alive. Following the unfortunate passing of Rudy, I promoted Hakeem to the rank of Lieutenant. You remember him, don't you, Castiel? As a reward for Hakeem's unwavering loyalty, I've promised him some quality time alone with each of them, once we dispose of all the Angel corpses. Your Archangel Brother has burned a lot of bridges, just as you have, and Archangel or not, it may be that his day of reckoning has finally come. And as for Gail, you recall Hakeem's particular...proclivities, don't you? If you don't want her subjected to them, we'll have to discuss some terms."

Cas saw red. He grabbed Crowley by the shirt front with both hands, shaking him roughly. "This is not a negotiation, and we are not making a deal, here!" He took his Angel blade out of his pocket, holding the tip to Crowley's cheek. "How many days did you hold Gail prisoner here, subjecting her to torment? How many hours?"

Despite the way he was being menaced at the moment, Crowley nodded slowly. "I thought as much," he said. "This isn't about Ammit at all, is it? It never was."

Cas dragged his blade down one side of Crowley's face and then the other, breaking the skin. Crowley grunted in pain. "How many hours, Crowley?" Cas repeated in his quiet voice.

"So, you're willing to see a couple of dozen of your Angels die, just to get me back for that?" Crowley said with gritted teeth. "That's not the hallmark of very good leadership, Castiel. What if Gail stubs a toe, in future? Are you going to order every stick of furniture in existence burned? You can't protect her from everything. And incidentally, she thinned out my staff considerably when she was here before, and she's doing it again now. Maybe I made a mistake when I gave instructions that she be taken alive. Of course, if your little stalker Pamela has anything to say about it, that may not be a consideration for much longer. What is it about you, Cas? First, Aurielle, and now Pamela? Personally, I don't see it."

"What are you talking about?!" Cas shouted.

"Pamela's fighting alongside your...Gail, and she's got an Angel blade tucked away in her pocket," Crowley said calmly. "My guards all have Angel blades, and there's a lot of confusion going on right now. You do the math."

Cas's heart skipped a beat. Crowley couldn't possibly be suggesting that...no, Pamela wouldn't dare try to harm Gail. Would she? But now, Cas was picturing the thoughts he had read coming from Pamela's mind on the day they had faced off, when Gail had been in that compound. And, again, when Pamela had come to see Cas in his office, on the pretext of Academy business, when he and Gail had been divorced. Pamela fantasized about herself and Castiel in sexual situations all the time, and even though Cas hated that she did, he was in no position to control her thoughts. As long as she did nothing to act on them, Cas supposed he had no choice but to look the other way. But now, Crowley seemed to be insinuating that Pamela had evil intent when it came to Gail. Did she?

Nicole was rubbing Quinn's wrists briskly now. She'd seen that either in the movies or on TV; she couldn't remember which. It was supposed to stimulate the unconscious person into regaining consciousness. Or so they claimed. Sam was standing by with a glass of water, because he hadn't known what else to do, really. He and Dean didn't have a lot of experience with people fainting. Passing out from too much blood loss or too many beers, maybe, but...

Quinn started to come around, and suddenly, Dean started to interrogate her. "Who are the dead Angels?" he barked. "What about Demons?"

"Geez, dude, give her a second," Sam admonished his brother, but he was concerned about that, too. Dead Angels? Too late? No, that didn't sound at all ominous, did it?

Quinn opened her eyes, accepting the glass of water from Sam. She drank a bit of it, and then she said, "I saw Angels and Demons, fighting to the death. Cas and Gail are there, and Gabriel, and some others. Linda, too."

"Where?" Sam asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Quinn said, dazed. "Some kind of hallway; that's all I remember seeing. There was a lot of blood, and a lot of dead Demons."

"Well then, that's good, right?" Dean said rhetorically. "Wherever they are, it sounds like they're kicking ass. Too bad we don't know where they are. We could go help." He looked at Quinn. "You don't know where they are, do you?"

"I think it's Hell, Dean," Quinn responded quietly. "I think they're in Hell."

The brothers looked at each other, open-mouthed. "Hell?!" Sam exclaimed. "Why would they be in Hell?"

Dean was starting to get an idea. "I think that guy we saw recently might have something to do with it." He stole a furtive glance at Nicole. He didn't dare say anything more in front of her.

Sam looked blank for a moment, but then he caught Dean's meaning and nodded. That didn't make what Quinn was saying any less disturbing, though. So, Cas and Crowley'd apparently had some kind of a dust-up when Crowley had been at the bunker earlier this morning, exorcising Ammit from Nicole's body. Ho hum. Just a normal, dysfunctional discussion between the Biblical brothers, complete with death threats and snarky comments. But now all of a sudden, Cas was in Hell with Gail and a squadron of Angels, slicing and dicing Demons? What were they missing, here?

If there was ever a time to act, now would be it. Pamela's hand crept toward her pants pocket, where she was keeping her Angel blade. Still, she hesitated. Was she seriously contemplating doing this? What the hell was she thinking? She was an Angel, for goodness' sakes. How could she be considering harming Gail? What kind of a monster was she, anyway?

Pamela's hand went into her pocket, and she palmed the blade in her other hand, the one not holding the Demon knife. Somewhat ironically, Gail and Gabriel were standing in front of her and their little group, protecting her. Gail was protecting Pamela. How strange was that? But Pamela was thinking about Cas now, showing up at the Academy earlier, announcing that he was going to kill the King of Hell. The strength of his convictions and the fire in his eyes had made her knees weak. Pamela had been hoping to spend a bit more time with Castiel during the six-month period of his divorce, but every time she had tried, one of his friends had been inconveniently at hand, either pressing her into service at the Academy, or steering Castiel away from her. And, before she knew it, the time had elapsed, and then Gail was back, wearing Castiel's engagement ring on her finger. But engaged wasn't married, was it? And once Castiel was married again, he would be lost to Pamela for good.

She touched the spring on the Angel blade, looking at the back of Gail's neck.

Crowley's hands were splayed out on the arms of his chair, and now Cas sunk his knife into one hand, and then the other. Crowley pursed his lips tightly against the pain, but he didn't want to give Castiel the satisfaction of crying out.

His brother was full-on, foaming-at-the-mouth homicidal now, Crowley realized. Their Father at His most vengeful had nothing on Castiel when he was at the height of his anger. Crowley was beginning to get a little concerned. He'd thought that Castiel would have backed down by now, or that Crowley's security detail would have captured Gail and Gabriel. Once that happened, Cas would have no choice but to let Crowley go free, if he ever wanted to see Gail alive and undamaged again. But those damnable Angels were dispatching his men at a prodigious rate, and Crowley had been unable to distract Castiel by pointing out the danger that young Pamela posed to Gail; although about that, at least, the King had been telling the absolute truth.

Cas withdrew his blade from Crowley's hand, looking at it calmly. Then, he twirled it around, changing his grip, and plunged it into the King's thigh, with all the force he could muster.

This time, Crowley did cry out in pain. He couldn't help it. This couldn't be happening to him, not in his own Kingdom. He sent out the call, and a moment later, both the second and the third wave of Demons descended on the Angels. This needed to end, now. Castiel was not letting up. Out came the blade, dripping with the King's blood, and once again, Castiel studied it, as if he was trying to affix the sight in his mind. Probably to push those visuals he'd been having of Gail strapped to the rack in Crowley's dungeon out of his head. In retrospect, that might not have been the King's smartest move. But how in the bloody hell could he have known that Castiel would actually manage to climb out of his grave, shake the dirt off, and resume his life, as if nothing had happened? Who DID that?

Then the Angel blade was driven into Crowley's other thigh, and when Castiel gritted his teeth and twisted it, Crowley greyed out for a moment. A tear dribbled out of the corner of his eye, and Castiel smiled grimly upon seeing that single tear sliding down the King's blood-soaked cheek. "I wonder how many of those Gail shed when she was here, undergoing unspeakable torment?" Cas asked conversationally. He twisted the blade again. "I wonder how excruciating her pain was, when you burned her at the stake in Camelot?" Another twist. "What do you have to say about that?"

"What do you want me to say, Castiel?!" Crowley shouted. "That I'm a terrible person? OK, I'll say it: I'm a horrible, vile individual. I always have been. But, you knew that already. You've always known that."

"Yes, I have," Cas said, working his jaw angrily. "And I put up with you for centuries, when I should have ended your miserable existence long before we ever got to this point. But I will rectify that mistake, very soon."

Crowley could see in his mind's eye that his reinforcements had arrived, and the battle was raging on. But the Angels seemed to be finding their stride, and he didn't know how much time he had left. Castiel had him bound by Godly means, so he couldn't just pop out of his office. And if he were to open his mouth and attempt to smoke out, there would be nowhere for him to go.

He looked up at Castiel. Or, was there?

"Gail's in danger," Quinn said suddenly. "They all are." She had a faraway look now, as her vision allowed her to peer into Hell. "There are too many Demons."

Pamela raised the Angel blade just as Crowley's reinforcements arrived, intending to plunge it into Gail's back. But at that very moment, Gabriel saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to look at Pamela.

"That's an Angel blade you're holding," he told her, assuming that she'd just made a mistake. "Did you lose your Demon knife? Here; I have an extra one." He reached into his pocket and handed her his second Demon knife, plucking the Angel blade from her hand and stashing it in his pocket. Then his attention returned to the fight, without another glance at her.

Pamela was open-mouthed. If she hadn't just been contemplating Gail's murder, what Gabriel had just done would almost have been funny.

But there was nothing she could do about it now. Dozens of Demons had just appeared, and the tide slowly started to turn. Efram was the first to fall. He was on the end of the battalion line, having rushed a trio of Demons who were attacking Ethan. The Angels began to beat them back, but then another handful of Demons joined the fray, and one of them stabbed Efram in the chest. The young Angel staggered back and slid down the wall, a look of surprise on his face.

Riley bellowed in anger, and he and Linda raced over there to help Ethan. "Crap!" Gail yelled out loud. How could she and Gabriel protect them if they wouldn't stay put? But she could also see what was going on down there, and as more Demons flooded into the corridor, she could see that they were seriously outnumbered now. The better strategy would be to stay together.

Another couple of the young instructors fell, and Pamela felt a sharp pain at her side. There was an Angel blade sticking out of her body, and a grinning Demon on the other end of it. She leapt at him, screaming in pain and anger, and another Demon grabbed her from behind and pulled her head back by the hair, cutting her throat. She died right then and there, never having seen her beloved Castiel for the last time.

This was bad. This was so bad. Gail and Gabriel exchanged worried glances. The tide had definitely turned now, and the momentum was on the Demons' side.

"I'm getting Cas!" Gail shouted to the Archangel. "Keep fighting! I'll be right back!"

Gabe nodded, not wanting to waste his breath on speech. She'd damn well better get Cas, or there wouldn't be any faculty left. He felt a slash on his arm, and he went back to fighting.

Then came the most painful blow of all: as Gail started off down the corridor, a Demon grabbed her by the arm, almost pulling it out of its socket. She yelled in pain and surprise, and Riley rushed over, stabbing the guy in the chest. But as she opened her mouth to thank Riley and tell him she was going to get Cas, two Demons attacked him simultaneously, and Riley slumped to the floor, bleeding copiously.

Gail screamed incoherently, rushing the assailants. She stabbed one in a frenzy of rage, but then she felt Gabriel grab her. "Go! Get Cas!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "NOW!"

She ran down the corridor to Crowley's office, bursting through the door. Luckily, Cas had only closed the door behind him, not sealed it.

Crowley was opening his mouth, preparing to expel his essence into Cas, but the shock of her sudden appearance made him gulp it back down again. Gail was covered in blood, panting from her exertions in battle. That was becoming a normal state of being for his sister, here in Hell. Maybe Crowley should have put a bell on her neck, instead of a Demon curse. Then at least his unfortunate minions could hear her coming, giving them a sporting chance.

"Cas, you have to come, right away!" Gail yelled. "We need your help!" She turned around immediately and took off back down the corridor, trusting that Cas would follow. Cas glanced briefly at Crowley, but he had no choice but to hurry out of the office after Gail.

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. He sent out the call to Hakeem, to come to the office at once. His Lieutenant popped in a moment later.

Hakeem bent to free Crowley from his bonds, but the King told him not to bother. "Castiel put those on me, himself," Crowley told him. "You won't be able to budge them. But that's all right; I have a solution."

"What's that, Your Majesty?" Hakeem asked him curiously.

"Open your mouth," Crowley commanded.

By the time Cas and Gail got back to the battle, there were only half a dozen Angels left alive. Gabriel, Ethan and Linda had miraculously survived, along with three other instructors, whose names escaped Gail at the moment. Cas would know. Cas knew everyone's names. She knelt down beside a few of the fallen, checking to make sure that they weren't merely wounded.

Cas was horrified. He threw his arms out immediately, vapourizing every Demon that was still standing. Then he fell to his knees beside Gail, checking the Angels' corpses to see if he could do any healing, any at all. Pamela's eyes were open, and she was staring at him accusingly. You got me killed, she was saying. I know you didn't welcome my advances, but were they so repugnant to you that I had to die for them? He touched her head, checking to see if there were any vestiges of her essence left. There weren't, but he got a quick vision of her raising an Angel blade. But then, it was gone. He closed her eyes.

Gail had come upon young Efram now, and she hitched in a breath. He had told her he wanted to do the honourable thing, and fight for Heaven. Well, what the hell was so honourable about this? A dead Demon lay across Efram's legs. She pulled It off of him and cast Its vessel aside, taking Efram's lifeless hands in hers. "I'm sorry, Efram," Gail said, her eyes blurring with tears. "I'm so sorry." Her chest hurt now. Angel or not, it didn't make any difference. Gail knew that once an individual died here in Hell, they stayed dead. There would be no Garden for him; not for any of them. No second chances.

She crawled over to where Riley lay now, holding her breath. But Gabriel was already kneeling beside the young Angel, and the Archangel shook his head slowly.

"Noooo!" Gail wailed. She grabbed Riley's body, shaking it. "No! I refuse to accept this! It isn't funny, Riley! Get up! You're scaring me!"

"Gail..."Gabriel said, reaching out for her, but she pushed him away.

"No, Gabriel. Don't touch me," she said viciously. She struggled to her feet, looking at the surviving Angels, who were standing there, blood-soaked and breathless, looking down in shock at their fallen friends.

"Take our dead and go back up to the Academy. Wait for us there," she instructed Ethan and Linda.

"Gail..." It was Linda this time, but Gail screamed, "DO IT! NOW!"

As the Angels began to gather the vessels together for transport, Gail turned to Cas. They made eye contact for a moment, and then he turned on his heel and went down the corridor, back towards Crowley's office. Gail and Gabriel followed, their Demon knives in hand.

But by the time they got there, Crowley's empty vessel was still bound to the chair, but Crowley was gone.

VIGNETTE - LEAN ON MY SHOULDER

Cas had insisted on having a full military funeral for each and every Angel who had been killed in Hell, and he had personally given the eulogies for each one.

Most of them had been young and single, so at least he hadn't had to face the grief-stricken, accusing faces of the family members of the decedents. But Cas didn't need to look at the faces of any family members to feel guilt. All he had to do was look in the mirror.

He even gave Pamela's eulogy, although he had to choose his words carefully for that one. It was hard to say positive things about someone who had been intending to end Gail's life. But Cas still felt like he owed it to Pamela to try. He owed it to all of them.

After they'd gotten back to Heaven, Cas had debriefed his squadron leaders, as Linda and the younger instructors went to the gymnasium to sort out their dead comrades. Gabriel and Ethan had done most of the talking. Gail had sat in the third chair with her head down, avoiding Cas's gaze.

When they got to the part about Pamela having had the Angel blade in her hand as she'd stood behind Gail, Cas had looked sharply at Gabriel, who'd given his Brother a half-shrug. But Cas didn't pursue that line of questioning any further. He could add two and two, but it was a moot point now, wasn't it? Why make Gail feel any worse than she did right now?

Dean had called several times between the raid into Hell and the first funeral service, but Cas had ignored their friend's calls. He was too weary, too heartbroken right now to deal with the inevitable questioning that would ensue. Finally, as Cas was preparing the eulogy for Efram and Dean called yet again, Cas snatched his cell phone off his desk and hurled it against the wall, smashing it into tiny pieces. Then Gail popped herself over to Bobby's cabin, where he had been shining his shoes in preparation for the service. She asked him to go down to the bunker and fill the brothers in on what was happening. Gail didn't want them to have to worry any longer, and that way, if they knew what was going on with Cas, they might tread lightly when they spoke to him next.

Cas was an absolute wreck, but he was using his responsibilities as God right now to hide that fact. Gail could tell that he was hanging on by a thread, and she needed to be there for him, even though she wasn't quite sure if she forgave him. But they could deal with all of that after the last two memorials, which would be the toughest ones of all. She had told Cas what Efram had said to her about his grandfather and the war, and Cas had added that to his remarks. When it came to that part of the eulogy, his voice had cracked, but Cas was able to get through it, although just barely. But when he'd looked down at Riley's body, Cas froze. They had arranged for a double service for Efram and Riley, because the two young Angels had been such good friends.

As Cas looked down at young Riley now, he lost his words altogether. His face contorted into a study in grief. All of those lives lost, and why? Why? Because Cas had lost his temper? Because he'd been seeking personal vengeance?

The tears started to fall silently down Cas's face, and still, he could not speak. Riley had been like a son to him. They'd all been like his children, in a way. Even Pamela. Cas had taught them all to fight when the Academy had first opened, and he had watched as their skills and their confidence had grown. Then they had graduated and taken on students of their own. When he had asked them to follow him into Hell, none of them had had one moment's hesitation. Not a one. Because they'd believed in him, and they'd looked up to him. None more than Riley. Cas had been well aware of how the young Angel felt about him. Their friends and family had teased Riley about it from time to time, but he had not let that bother him. Riley had been Cas's campaign manager and his most stalwart supporter during the election process, and he had been Cas's first choice and most eager assistant at the inaugural Academy. And it was Riley who had stepped up and taken Gail wherever she had needed to go in her quest to get Cas back when he'd been dead, and she'd been a human.

Cas looked at Gail now, anguished. How could they say goodbye to Riley? How could he stand it? How could she? She was looking at Cas sadly, with compassion that he didn't deserve.

Gail rose from her seat in the front row and came up to the lectern where Cas was standing. She put her hand on his arm, and Cas looked down at her. He wished she would reach up and smack him across the face, as hard as she could.

But Gail didn't, of course. How could she? Truthfully, she had come very close, when they'd first gotten back from Hell. She'd told him it was a bad idea. She'd begged him not to do it. She had tried everything she could think of to change his mind. But she hadn't tried hard enough, had she? Because, to be honest, a part of her had also thought it was a damn good idea. And while she was being so honest with herself, Gail should just admit that she had wanted revenge for what had happened to her in Hell, just as much as Cas had wanted to deliver it to her. So, what made her any better than him?

Gail faced the crowd. "We loved all of the Angels who died, but Riley was a particular favourite of ours. If Cas and I had had an awkward, dorky, nerdy son, he probably would have been Riley," she said. A couple of the audience members laughed softly. "He meant the world to us. He, and Efram, and all of them. I never had children when I was a human. I died young, so I never really got the chance to find out if I would have wanted any. But now, I feel like I have millions upon millions of children. All of you. Even though I joke around that if anyone tried to tell me I was old enough to be their mom, I would have to have Cas smite them." There was a bit more laughter. Then Gail sighed. "Cas and I thought we were doing the right thing by going to Hell to kill Crowley. He has been a clear and present danger to Heaven and every Angel in it since the Beginning of it All. We asked our friends if they wanted to come, but we didn't force anyone to go. They all volunteered. Still, that doesn't absolve us of our guilt. We made a poor decision, and we owe all of you an apology."

Cas drew in a sharp breath. Gail was talking to all of Heaven as if it had been a joint decision, between the two of them. As if she had not told him that it was a terrible idea. As if he had not told her that he was God, and she was not, and he didn't care to hear her opinion. How was it possible that he was still even standing, with this two-ton weight of guilt on his shoulders? And how was it possible that she was still standing with him, standing by him, loving him?

"I need to say something," Gabriel said loudly, standing up from his seat. Cas and Gail looked at him apprehensively.

"I followed our Lord God to Hell, and I would do it again," Gabriel went on. "The mission went bad, but that doesn't mean that it was a bad mission. It breaks my heart that I couldn't save any of the fallen, but I'm sure that if you were to have the chance to ask any one of them, they would say the same as me. I support Castiel. He made the right call." Notably, though, Gabriel didn't include Gail's name when he was referring to the decision that had been made. Maybe she was willing to fall on her metaphorical sword, but that didn't mean that Gabriel had to be complicit in her self-sacrifice. But he was struggling with his own guilt now. He had backed Cas to the hilt when the subject had originally come up. Why? That was a good question. When they had extracted him from Area 51, Gabe had been a pacifist, like Liz. But now, he had just come back from an extended hand-to-hand combat session where he had killed countless Demons in a straight-up street fight. How had his outlook changed so radically in such a short period of time?

Gabriel sat back down, and Liz took his hand. She had been shocked and appalled when they had gotten back from their mission and Gabriel had walked into her office, all wide-eyed and bloody. Gail had been so out of it that she hadn't even volunteered to clean him up, although Cas had touched Gabriel and healed his slash wounds. Gabriel had given Liz an abbreviated, less gory account of what had taken place, but she could tell from his appearance that it had been much worse than he had described.

Gail took Cas by the hand and led him down to the biers where Efram's and Riley's bodies were. She bent to kiss each young Angel softly on his forehead, and Cas touched each of them, giving a silent blessing. Then, he gently closed the lids of the caskets. Most humans would probably find it odd to put Angels' vessels in caskets, but the option was available for state funerals. Since this was the last of the memorials, the vessels of the dead would be borne to be cremated, and the urns would be placed in alcoves in a special, designated area in Heaven.

Bobby, Chuck, Ethan, Kevin and Gabriel came forward now. Along with Cas, they moved the biers together using their Angel powers, and then they formed a procession down the aisle, acting as pallbearers.

Then Gail reached out her hands, one to Liz and the other to Linda, and the women fell in behind the men, walking slowly out of the room.

A couple of days passed, and Cas remained despondent. He had holed up in their suite in Heaven, putting a seal on the door to prevent anyone from knocking. He hadn't bothered to replace his cell phone, and he had his Angel Radio switched completely off.

Gail had quietly moved back into the suite to be with him. At a time like this, they needed to be together. Who cared if they were married or not?

Both of them were grieving, but Gail felt as if she had to be the stronger one now. Cas was a miserable wreck. He spent most of his time just sitting and staring into space, saying nothing. When Gail tried to engage him in conversation, his responses were perfunctory, and without expression. She would pop out every now and then to give their concerned friends updates on him, but she never left him alone for very long, because the depths of his depression made her a little bit nervous.

Bobby had offered to talk to Cas, but Gail had demurred. She loved Bobby, but his idea of consolation usually involved a figurative kick in the pants, and she felt that was the wrong approach to take in this instance. Cas was doing such a thorough job of beating himself up over the incident that the tough approach would just be superfluous, and cruel. Bobby had read between the lines, and he didn't argue. But he'd felt like he had to do something, so he had gone to see Chuck, inquiring about the directory that Chuck had put together. Were people's former professions listed in it? Sure, if Chuck knew what they had been. Bobby had then asked Chuck to compile a list of the Angels who had been in the psychiatric profession. He thought it was high time they set up some sort of a program to get them all through some of the rougher times. Bobby thought a lot of the Angels could use some grief counselling, to deal with this latest incident. As Cas's de facto second-in-command, he wanted to be proactive about it. Bobby was sure that Cas would approve, once he emerged from his cocoon.

Gail had also popped down to the bunker briefly, but even though the Winchesters implored her to bring Cas there so they could talk to him, Gail was reluctant to do that, too. Dean was predictably angry, saying that he and Sam and Frank would take up arms and roast Crowley's English muffin ass, or words to that effect. But Cas wasn't going to respond to any aggressive, sabre-rattling talk right now, nor did Gail think that he would benefit from an intellectual analysis of what had gone wrong on the mission, which seemed to be Sam's approach. She asked them both to be patient, while she tried to sort things out.

She gave Cas as much attention and loving care as she could, but it was difficult for him to accept her comfort. Gail would talk soothingly to him, telling him that they had to find a way to get past what had happened, together. He would bend down at the waist, putting his head in his hands, and she would wrap her arms around him, murmuring words of love and support. But in a way, her approach was making him feel even worse. He wasn't worthy of her love. Why couldn't she just leave him alone? That was what he deserved, to be left all alone. That was ALL he deserved.

By the third day, Gail was growing desperate. She had to get through to Cas, somehow. She popped down to Frank's house, asking to talk to her brother alone.

"How bad is it?" he asked, without preliminary.

"It's bad, Frank," she answered sadly. "So bad that I actually took his blade away from him. Of course, he's God, so I guess he could just smite himself, if he really wanted to."

"If things weren't so grim right now, I could make about a million jokes about that," Frank said. "But, I won't." He sighed. "How are YOU doing, kiddo?"

"Horrible. Terrible. Depressed as hell. Worried about Cas," she replied.

Frank opened his mouth, but then he closed it again. He usually just ran his mouth, but he wanted to be a little more thoughtful in what he said this time. Guilt and depression were tricky things.

Finally, he said, "When our parents died - I mean, my parents - once the dust cleared and I got us the hell away from there, I felt guilty for at least a year afterwards."

Gail was puzzled. "Guilty? Why would YOU feel guilty?" she asked him.

"Because I stayed down in the basement in that cubbyhole with you, when I should have been upstairs, fighting, defending them," he responded.

Gail considered that. She could see why he would feel that way. Of course, as it had turned out, Vincent would probably have just murdered Frank, too, and then who knew what would have become of her? But they hadn't known that he was the killer back then.

"The one thing that saved me from a really prolonged depression was that I had to take care of you," Frank went on. "I didn't have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity."

Gail put her hand on top of her brother's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Cas has the opposite problem," she said through the lump in her throat. "He has millions of Angels to take care of, but he doesn't seem interested any more. He's always had issues when it comes to making decisions, and this one went so wrong that I think he's decided not to decide anything, any more."

Frank froze. "Wait a minute," he said. "I have an idea. Can you get him to come down here to Earth? I want to talk to him."

Gail thought about that for a minute. Normally, she would be a little bit leery of Frank trying his hand at psychological counselling. But she was running out of options here, and she remembered how he had helped her, when she'd been feeling low after the case in New Orleans. "Come with me," she said.

The three of them sat down at Cas and Gail's house on Earth, so that they could talk in private. Frank was startled by Cas's appearance. Angels didn't age, of course, but Cas looked like he had, anyway. His eyes were red from crying, and he had a hollow look. Had he been a human, Frank would have assumed that he hadn't eaten or slept in days.

"You wanted to talk to me, Frank?" Cas said dully. That was the only reason that he had agreed to come; because Gail had said that Frank needed to talk to him. Cas loved Frank. Frank was his brother-in-law. Well, all right, maybe not technically; not at the moment. But in Cas's heart, he was and had always been, and that was what really counted. If Frank needed Cas, he would do his best to be there for him. Besides, Frank wasn't an Angel, so Cas felt like he could look Gail's brother in the eye.

"How're you doing, Cas?" Frank asked him, by way of a response.

Cas gave him a half-shrug, but he said nothing. What could he say, really?

Frank nodded, though, as if Cas had spoken. "I have just one thing to say to you, brother to brother," he told Cas.

Cas waited for the rebuke he was inevitably going to receive. Frank was going to call him a coward, hiding behind closed doors and wallowing in self-pity while Heaven needed him. While Gail needed him. Cas hadn't been unmindful of her efforts on his behalf, he had just been unable to muster up the energy to tell her how much he appreciated her love and support, and how lost he would have been without it.

Frank put his hands on Cas's shoulders, making sure that he was paying close attention. "Actually, I have just one word for you, Cas," Frank went on. "And that word is: Quit."


	2. Dawn Of A New Day

Chapter 2 - Dawn Of A New Day

"I beg your pardon, Frank?" Cas said, puzzled. He must have heard Gail's brother wrong. He must be telling Cas to quit it, as in, to stop feeling so sorry for himself.

"You heard me," Frank said. "Quit. Quit being God."

Cas gasped. "Quit being God?" he echoed. "I can't - you can't just - " He was so aghast at what Frank was saying that he couldn't even form a complete sentence.

"Why not?" Frank persisted. "Bobby did."

"But, he wasn't..." Cas trailed off.

"Finish your thought, Cas," Frank urged. "Whatever you say will never leave this room, OK? You have my word."

"He wasn't our Father's choice," Cas blurted out. "I was."

Frank nodded again. "So, you feel like you'd be letting the old man down, if you quit the family business."

For a miracle, Cas's lips twitched briefly. It was the closest he'd come to a smile in...Gail couldn't remember when. "In a manner of speaking, yes," Cas replied. "Yes, Frank."

"I'll tell you what," Frank said. "You've got to follow your heart, Cas. There are many days I've woken up and wished my Dad had been a pilot, or a race-car driver. You know, something cool, but less dangerous than what we do. And there are many days I've wished he hadn't brought me into the whole Hunting thing. That's OUR family business, and sometimes, it really sucks. With all due respect, sometimes yours does, too. That's why I'm quitting, Cas. I'm out. Why don't you quit, too? We'll be quit buddies. What do you say? Let's buck the trend."

Gail was amazed. "You're quitting Hunting?" she asked her brother.

"Yep," he said with a faint smile.

"How come?" she asked him.

"Because. Because I've had enough, Gail. I'm a husband, and a father. I can't be going out on the road, leaving my family. I owe Jody and Angela better than that. Rob and Eric, too. The two of them can take over from me, if that's what they wanna do. But, I'm not doing it any more. Thanks to Cas, we have enough money now to do anything we want. Jody wants to raise money for cancer research, and I think I'd like to help her with that. And - don't laugh, but I think I might want to get into local politics. I took my head out of my ass long enough to realize I don't like what's been going on in our country. It's too much of a 'me first, and screw everybody else' society these days. Part of the problem is that idiot of a President we have now, but it goes beyond that. Jody and I were talking about it, and we decided that the change has gotta come from somewhere. So I've decided to take your example, Cas, and be the change I want to see in the world."

Cas looked at him, open-mouthed. "You got that from me? ME?" he said, dazed.

"Yeah. Of course," Frank said softly, and Gail couldn't help but smile. That was the tone he used to use with her, when she had been a frightened child. "I look up to you, you big Stupid-Head," Frank said to Cas, hoping to get a smile.

"Wow. That's a high compliment," Gail quipped. "I only ever made Little Poopyhead."

Now, Cas did smile. With these two, you couldn't help it. He took Gail's hand, and her face lit up. That was the first time he'd done that since the whole awful incident.

"My sister, always with the jokes," Frank said, shaking his head slowly. "Let me ask you a serious question, Cas. And you have to promise me you'll answer honestly. Brother to brother. OK?"

"Okay, Frank," Cas said solemnly. "Brother to brother."

"When's the last time you were happy, Cas?" Frank asked him. "I mean, really, truly, happy. Don't hedge, don't think about it, just answer: When?"

"Our wedding day," Cas answered automatically, squeezing Gail's hand.

"Do you realize how long ago that was?" Frank asked him pointedly. "And, do you know why? Well, aside from the obvious, of course. It's because you weren't God, then. You were serving Heaven, you were going on important missions, and you were with your friends and family on Earth, and with my sister. But, you weren't God."

Cas was astonished. Frank was right. He was absolutely right. Cas had campaigned for the Office because he'd thought it was the right thing to do at the time, and because, on some level, he'd still been seeking his Father's approval. He'd lost the election, of course, but the mantle of the Office had been thrust suddenly upon him, and when it had, he'd been under the influence of Patricia's poison. He had tried to be a good and just God, and in some ways, Cas knew that he had been. But he had never really been comfortable being the Lord God, not really. The only God Cas had ever thought of as God had been his Father. Cas was no God. He was an Angel, he was a man, and he hoped to be Gail's husband again very soon, as soon as his head was right. He knew what he needed to do now.

"Thank you, Frank," Cas said. He stood, and Frank stood with him. "You don't know...how much...this means to me."

Cas was starting to tear up now, and Frank forced himself not to smile, because Cas might not understand. But he opened his arms wide. "Okay, bring it in, Bro." The men embraced, and as Cas leaned his head on Frank's shoulder, Frank looked at his sister and smiled.

Cas and Gail walked hand in hand into Bobby's office. He looked up, startled. Cas was freshly shaven, his hair was neatly combed, and he looked about thirty years younger.

"Do you have a moment, Bobby?" Cas asked their friend.

"Of course I do," Bobby said, putting his pen down. "Have a seat."

"We're waiting for one other person," Gail said, and sure enough, Gabriel popped in a moment later. He waved his hand, and a third chair appeared beside Gail.

As Gabriel sat, Bobby's forehead wrinkled. "What's going on, Cas?" he asked, curious.

"I'm resigning the Office," Cas said calmly. "I wanted to tell both you and Gabriel, because technically, you are next in line for the position, as the third-highest candidate in the election. But, Gabriel is the highest-ranking Angel in Heaven. Therefore, I thought I would put it to the two of you, and get your thoughts."

"How about Gail?" Bobby said.

"Me? What about me?" she asked.

"You were a candidate too, and I know you only withdrew because of Patricia," the older Angel pointed out. "I don't know if it would be fair for me or Gabriel to just slot in there. Maybe we should have another election, then."

"Hold it," Gabriel said. "Who said I even want the job?"

"DO you want the job?" Bobby asked him bluntly.

"I don't know," Gabriel said evasively. "Let me think about it for a minute." He started to smile. "You know what? I just might. Think of all the fun we could have."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "This is Heaven, not the circus, Gabriel."

"Hey! I can be a serious guy, you know," Gabriel said, pouting. "Still, I think we could stand to lighten things up a little bit around here. What do you think, Kitten?" He nudged Gail. "How about Tequila Tuesdays?"

Her lips twitched. "From what I know about you, it's not a far leap from there to Free Love Fridays," she quipped, playing along.

"How about Man Crush Mondays?" he shot back, warming to the subject now. "We could hang pictures of Sam and Dean and Cas in the hallways, and have a vote. Oh, and pictures of me, of course. No, wait. It wouldn't be fair to those guys, to have to compete with all of this." He gestured to himself, as Gail laughed, picturing what he was describing. What a breath of fresh air Gabriel was. This was the first genuine laugh she'd had in ages. "That was a song in the '80s, wasn't it?" she asked him. "'Just another Man-Crush Monday'," she sang.

"Are the two of you done?" Bobby said irritably.

Gabriel was smirking now. "Not even close. But, I'll restrain myself, due to the solemnity of the occasion. See? I can behave, if I have to."

"Well, kudos to you," Bobby said sarcastically. "Anyway, as we were saying...what WERE we saying?"

"You were talking about an election," Cas pointed out helpfully.

"Oh. Yeah. So, whaddaya think?" Bobby asked the group.

"Noooo," Gail said apprehensively. "Another election? I don't want that. I don't think anybody's got the stomach for that. Besides, I don't want the job. After Cas and I are remarried, we're going to be spending a lot of time on Earth. We've got bad guys and Books to find. Right, sweetie?"

"That's right," Cas said, giving her hand a squeeze. Bless Gail. She had given him so much, and now, she had given him what was arguably the one thing he had needed the most right now: a real purpose. A noble one.

"I don't want the job, either," Gabriel said. "I was just yanking your chain."

"How about it, Bobby? Will you re-assume the Office?" Cas asked him. "I always thought you were a very fair and just God. I realize that our Father did not give you all of the tools you needed to do the job at the time, but I think things are a little different, now. If you need my help for anything, I'll be glad to give it to you. Or, you could just ask Laurel. You know, just between us, I believe it should almost be her in the High Office. She knows much more than we do about...well, everything."

Bobby's beard twitched. "I can't argue with you there," he agreed.

"I'm excited about this," Gail said. "It'll be a whole new chapter in our lives."

"Do ya mind if I ask why, Cas?" Bobby said in a more subdued tone. "Was it because of the incident in Hell?"

Cas was thoughtful. "That was part of it, yes. But mainly, I realized I haven't been happy here. Gail and I will maintain our offices here and our positions on the board, but Frank made me realize that we're happiest when we're serving Heaven by doing missions on Earth. I miss doing something meaningful, and not just being a figurehead. We know that Ammit, Raguel, and Vincent are actively searching for the Books, and we know that no good can come if any of those three find them. Therefore, we must find the Books first. We must also dispatch that unholy trio, before they can do any further harm. That is what we have to concentrate on." He looked at Gail. "I should probably have realized that a long time ago. Perhaps I thought that if I kept you here in Heaven, I could keep you safe. But we can't live our lives that way, can we, my love? We can't bury our heads in the sand."

"Good," Gabriel said firmly. "It's about time. Those guys being out there? Makes me nervous. Go get 'em, Cas. And you too, Gail. Boy, can you ever kick some ass, Kitten. I almost feel sorry for the bad guys. I also realize I'd better never get on your bad side."

Gail smiled at the Archangel as Cas said, "So, will you take the job, Bobby?"

"Yeah, Cas. Yes, I will," Bobby said, nodding. "You're right. Things are different now. I'm sure I can do a much better job than I did before. I think I owe it to everyone to try."

Cas nodded. "Good. Good." He looked at Gail, and then they stood from their chairs. "I'm going to make a public address in an hour or so, once I write down what I want to say," Cas told the men. "Then, we'll have an informal ceremony, transferring the power back to you, Bobby. Is that agreed?"

"Yeah," Bobby said succinctly. Cas and Gail popped out of the room, and Gabriel smiled at Bobby, a hopeful expression on his face. "So, where do we stand on Tequila Tuesdays?"

Cas wrote and re-wrote his speech several times before he was more or less satisfied with it. Gail left him alone to do it. The words he was about to speak were going to be very personal, coming from Cas's heart as well as his mind, and she wasn't going to stick her nose in. This was something he needed to do himself, for himself.

But she did accompany him to the Office once he had the final draft in his hand, and she sat by quietly as he prepared the PA system for his speech. Once he was settled, he cleared his throat softly and began:

"Can I have everyone's attention, please? Kindly cease whatever you are doing and listen to what I have to say. I'll only take a moment of your time."

Cas took a breath, looking at Gail. She gave him an encouraging smile, and he continued:

"Effective immediately, I am resigning my position. Bobby will take over for me in the High Office, as your new God. As the person who received the next-highest votes to myself in the election, the rules of succession decree that he may take over when I leave." Cas paused again, and then he went on:

"That doesn't mean that I am leaving Heaven, not really. I am merely going to serve in another capacity. Currently, there are entities operating on the Earth who are a threat to all of us, as Lucifer was. With the help of my friends and family, and my darling Gail of course, I aim to vanquish them, as we did to Lucifer.

"Everything I do, everything I've ever done, I do with Heaven and each and every one of you in mind. I entered the High Office with your best interests in my heart, and I leave the same way. I appreciate the support I have received here, from diverse groups and organizations, all the way from the Junior Seraphs up to the Heavenly Hostesses, and every group in-between."

Eunice exchanged glances with a few of the ladies' auxiliary. They had been having a meeting when Cas's voice had come over the PA system, asking for their attention. It was very sad that Castiel would no longer be their leader, the women thought. They had heard rumours of the botched assassination attempt in Hell, and they wondered if that had anything to do with the decision. But, true to form, the ladies preferred not to think about such distasteful things. Instead, as they listened to Cas's resignation speech, they focused on the romanticism of it all. Castiel had always been a hero, in these ladies' eyes. He was just going to be a different kind of hero now.

"Of first and foremost concern to all of you will be the daily operations here in Heaven, and you may rest assured that those will not change," Cas was saying now. "Bobby may institute some improvements, here and there. In fact, I'm sure he will. But, everything will go on pretty much as it has been. Gail and I will maintain our individual honourary positions on the board, and on the faculty of the Academies."

For the first time, Cas's voice faltered, but he went on: "And we will maintain the Academies. Despite our recent losses, and the mistakes that I have made, I feel that it is still very important for us to have the tools that we need to defend ourselves. Maybe more now, than ever. But, I will not be involved in its administration any more. Nor will Gail be heading the board. We will probably pop in from time to time to check in, but all executive decisions will now be Bobby's to make. He is a good man, a fair man, and he has our full support. I hope he will have all of yours, too."

Eunice was thinking back to the campaign process prior to the election, when all four candidates had made speeches to her group. Bobby was a courtly Southern gentleman; a bit rough around the edges, maybe, but he seemed stable, sensible, and decisive. It was funny, really. Most of the Heavenly Hostesses had regrettably ended up falling for Patricia's calm, professional facade and questionable campaign tactics, and as a result, the vast majority of them had voted for her. But that just went to show that you could not always judge a book by its cover. Patricia had come across as the best candidate, but she had turned out to be the worst one they could have picked.

Linda was also listening intently to Cas's speech. She and Paul had been having a heart-to-heart talk about what had happened in Hell, and her role in it. When Linda had gotten back from the mission, Paul had initially been put out that she had not asked for his help, or at the very least, told him that she was going. She had gotten angry, saying she didn't need his permission, or the permission of any man, to do the right thing. Then Kevin had started in on her, saying the same things as Paul was saying. He had fought on Frank's team during the year of the death squads, Kevin had argued. He could have helped, too. She'd blown up at the both of them then, telling them that 20/20 hindsight was a terrific thing, wasn't it, and if they thought that they were good enough to beat a couple of hundred Demons, they could be her guest. Then she'd burst into tears, and both men had comforted her. That had been hard on Linda, but the silver lining was that Paul and Kevin had bonded over their love for her then, and the two men seemed a bit closer now.

Linda had heard Cas's voice falter when he'd spoken about the Academies, and her heart hurt for him. She remained absolutely convinced that his decision to assassinate Crowley had been the right one. Of course, Linda might be a little biased when it came to the King of Hell. Still, Cas had been the first God to try and do something about Crowley, and Linda would always admire him for that alone. Not to mention the fact that he was the one who was responsible for Linda even being back here in Heaven in the first place. She hoped that Cas remembered that he had also done a lot of good things for a lot of people when he had been God.

The Heavenly Hostesses were touched by what Cas was saying. In their minds, he was being sweet and noble, giving up the High Office for the woman he loved. Sort of like Edward and Mrs. Simpson. They admired Castiel a great deal, but now, they could see that a man like him was never really cut out to be God. He was the dashing hero type, the handsome warrior who could not be chained to a desk. Heaven was lucky to have him, and so was Gail.

As if reading their minds, Cas said now, "I owe my darling Gail the biggest vote of thanks for helping me get through this very difficult time. Any mistakes I have made are mine and mine alone, and have nothing to do with her. Just as any good that I have done, or any good decisions that I have made, can be directly credited to her."

Eunice smiled ruefully. As it turned out, the Heavenly Hostesses had been wrong about Gail, too. Eunice wasn't ashamed to admit that. She had turned out to be a lovely First Lady. Helping out at the Seniors' Centre, and the school. Comporting herself with dignity. She and her friend Liz, who was a delightful girl, had even tamed Gabriel, by all accounts. Gail would always be a little too unconventional for Eunice's taste, but there was no denying that she had performed a lot of good works in Heaven, some of which were unknown to many Angels. But Liz had stopped by to see the Heavenly Hostesses from time to time, and she had made sure that the ladies knew about them.

Liz and Gabriel were sitting hand in hand in her apartment, listening closely. Liz had been one of the few who'd actually known that this was coming. Gabriel had filled her in on their meeting in Bobby's office, and Liz had been very glad that Cas had ended up making that decision. Even though she realized she would probably be seeing a lot less of Gail once her friend and Cas left Heaven, in true saintly fashion, Liz had her friends' best interests at heart. She was a perceptive woman, and she'd known for some time that the couple hadn't really been happy in Heaven. Cas had tried to be all things to all people, and in doing so, he'd been a round peg trying to fit into a square hole.

And as for Gail herself, Liz had always felt badly about how her friend had been regarded by certain factions in Heaven. So what if she dressed in jeans and made a lot of jokes? Gail had one of the biggest hearts of anyone Liz had ever known, and she did a lot of things she'd never gotten credit for. So, Liz had taken it upon herself to make sure that groups like the Heavenly Hostesses and the seniors at the Centre found out about some of the good works that Gail had performed behind the scenes, the ones that nobody ever talked about. Gail had set up a training centre, where long-serving Angels who were interested could learn how to use a computer, or a Tablet. Gail had also taken it upon herself to teach some of the older folks a few more modern slang expressions, so that they could communicate with some of the young Angels. She and Liz had spent many fun-filled hours doing stuff like that together.

Cas was still speaking. "Any time anyone tells me that they don't believe in miracles, I tell them that they are wrong, because the fact that Gail has loved and supported me all of these years is nothing short of a miracle."

Leah was taking a break from working on her quilt to listen to Cas's speech. She was devoted to Castiel as the Lord God, but Leah could also understand why he could not stay in Heaven any longer. As the inspiration for the square she'd been working on came to her, she could see that Castiel needed to be on the Earth, fighting the enemies of Heaven. Soon, the Father would give Leah the Word, and she would be able to finish the tableau. Which of the trio would he fight, and what weapon would he use?

Leah smiled warmly at the words Castiel was using to describe Gail's positive presence, both in Heaven, and in his life. Like the Heavenly Hostesses, Leah hadn't really known how to regard Gail, when the girl had first come around. But the longer Gail had been at the centre, the more that Leah had thought of her. Gail had showed great respect and kindness to all of the seniors at the centre, gently joking that her own husband was the oldest one of them all. Leah had watched, bemused, as the girls had tried to teach her fellow residents some slang expressions. But Joab kept saying "As is" instead of "As if", and Ruth said "Whenever", when she should be saying "Whatever". But Liz and Gail had persevered, and if they found the older Angels' attempts at slang to be amusing, they had the good manners not to show it.

Yes, Gail would go down in history as the most loved First Lady that Heaven had ever had, and perhaps the only one that it would ever have. Cas was staring at her now, and he was thinking the same thing. Her picture should really be hanging alongside his in the alcove that held the portraits in Heaven, because in many ways, they had actually run Heaven together.

"That's pretty much all I have to say," Cas said over the PA system. "Gail and I wish all of you our very best. Rest assured that we are not deserting you, merely changing our focus. And now, I will leave you in Bobby's eminently capable hands."

Cas shut off the PA system and sat back in his chair, looking thoughtful. He gazed around the room, taking it all in for the last time. Then he rose and walked over to where Gail sat, extending his hand to her.

"Come, my love," he said. "Let's go home."

They were all gathered at Frank's house, having an informal celebration. The revelry was a little subdued, due to the grief they all still felt for their young Angel friends. Efram's, and especially Riley's, deaths were still acutely felt, especially by Rob, because they hadn't been much older than he was right now. He fondly remembered his sessions of playing video games with Riley. How could Riley be dead? And even if he was, couldn't they just bring him back, somehow? Dean had been dead at one point. So had Gail, and even Cas, himself. Cas had gently tried to explain that this situation was different, but Rob was petulant about that, because he didn't understand why. So he and Eric had ended up getting in Rob's car and going for a drive. Cas had offered to send out The Eye to find them. They were going to hold the simple ceremony for the handover of power to Bobby the following morning, whereupon Cas would no longer have The Eye, Bobby would. But Frank said not to worry about it. Rob was a man now, and Eric was with him. They would come back when they were ready.

Bobby was there at the get-together too, and he had joked about getting "a snootful", as he had called it, before he took the High Office in the morning. That had led to all kinds of quips about what God and shouldn't be doing, and comments about things that Cas might miss, not being the Almighty any more. He had taken his family's humour with equanimity. That was the way that they were, and the jokes had cheered him considerably. He felt like a giant burden had been lifted from his shoulders now, and he could tell that Gail felt the same.

"You know, from everything I heard on Angel Radio after I made my speech, I believe that the Angels will miss Gail much more than they'll miss me," Cas said lightly. "She was truly Heaven's First Lady, much like Princess Diana, Michelle Obama, or even Eva Peron."

"Actually, I'm glad you brought that up," Frank said, nudging Cas. He was over the moon, not only because Cas had taken his advice, but because his soon-to-be brother-in-law looked so much happier and more relaxed, now. "I've always wondered about that."

"About what, Frank?" Cas asked him curiously.

"Who are Arch and Tina?" Frank inquired.

Cas's brow furrowed. "Who?"

"You know, that song, from that musical about Eva Peron. 'Don't Cry For Me, Arch And Tina'," Frank replied, straight-faced.

"Oh, no, Frank," Sam said, shaking his head. "That might be your worst one ever."

"Or, is it my best one ever?" Frank said, raising an eyebrow.

"I call worst!" Gail piped up. But she was smiling. She couldn't give her brother too hard of a time right now, though. She and Cas both owed Frank a huge debt of gratitude for his helpful advice.

"So you're going to be back at the helm again, eh, Bobby?" Dean said to their friend. "That's great."

"Quit sucking up, Boy," Bobby said, his beard twitching.

"You'd better do a good job, or else Gail will be waiting in the wings, right? Well, so to speak," Jody remarked with a smile. Their friends were still under the impression that Gail would be next in succession to take the High Office, and she saw no reason to tell them otherwise. It was funnier this way.

"Please do a good job, Bobby. I'm begging you," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "That's the last thing I need; my ex-wife, running Heaven."

"That would be every guy's worst nightmare, wouldn't it? But I'm with you there, Buddy," Frank said, clapping Dean on the shoulder. "My sister can hold a grudge like nobody's business."

"Who's going to be in charge of the Board, now?" Sam asked Gail.

She shrugged. "Beats me. Whoever Bobby picks. It's not my decision, any more. Same as the Academies. The only thing Cas and I are going to concern ourselves with now are those Books, and the bad guys. Do you think Quinn would be willing to see us as soon as possible? We still have to find out where Oliver's body is buried."

Sam nodded. "I already called her, when you guys told us what was going on. She said you can go see her tomorrow, if you want. I'm sorry we weren't able to get the information when we were there with Nicole."

What Sam wasn't saying was that Quinn had been so traumatized by what she had seen in her visions on that day that she had asked them to leave her house. And Nicole had been so freaked out by the whole thing that she had packed her suitcase as soon as they'd gotten back to the bunker and asked Dean to take her to the airport. What a messed-up situation, all the way around.

But now that Cas and Gail had decided to devote themselves full-time to finding and getting rid of Vincent, Ammit, and Raguel, hopefully, things were going to settle down soon.

"A toast, to the once and future God, Bobby Singer," Dean said, and they all raised their glasses high.

The next day, after Cas transferred his Godly powers to Bobby with Gail and Laurel acting as witnesses, the Angel couple and the Winchesters were at Quinn's.

Conversation was stilted at first, but when Cas reached out to take the psychic's hand in greeting, Quinn realized her predominant emotion towards him was sympathy. He had suffered greatly following the horrific scene she had witnessed that day, and Quinn didn't want to add to his discomfort.

As for Gail, Quinn was glad to see the engagement ring back on her finger. She had asked politely, and the two of them had told Quinn that they were going to remarry as soon as possible. That was music to Quinn's ears, because she had been seriously considering asking Sam if he would like to give their relationship another try. Maybe she had been a little unfair to him. Sam was a good guy, with no evil intent. Maybe once Oliver's body was dug up and they sent him on his merry way, Quinn would finally be done with the Angels, once and for all. And once she was out of that whole mess, maybe she and Sam could talk about getting back together.

There was only one problem: Oliver didn't know where his body was buried.

"Think back," Cas said to the ghost. "What do you remember?"

Oliver was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I remember seeing my body from above, as if I was watching a movie. You and Gail left, and then a man came down to the aisle, where my body was laying. They called him Mark. Lucifer told him to dispose of my body."

"Where did he bury you?" Cas persisted.

Oliver was agitated. "I don't know. Why don't you ask HIM?"

Cas and Gail exchanged glances. "We can't," Cas said shortly. "He's dead, too."

"Oh," Oliver said. He thought some more. "Wait a minute. I remember, now. He didn't bury me; he dumped my dead body on a hillside, near the freeway."

"Man, that's cold," Dean remarked. "Is that it?"

"Yes, that's all I know," Oliver assured him. "I didn't see anything more. I guess my spirit left my body and came here, after that."

"We should be able to find out where your body is buried, now," Sam stated. "All we have to do is go there and talk to the LAPD. If they recovered your body from the hillside, they probably opened up a file under John Doe. You were a murder victim, right? So it stands to reason that they would be looking for your killer. I doubt they'll still have your remains, but since your corpse was unclaimed, they probably buried you themselves, in a designated area the police have for the remains of murder victims."

"Unless they cremated him," Dean said glumly.

"I doubt they would have done that," Sam argued. "There's no statute of limitations on murder. Therefore, they would have to have a body to exhume, if they arrested a suspect."

"That's a good point, Sam," Cas complimented the younger Winchester.

Dean smirked. "Wouldn't it be something, if they arrested some poor innocent guy for your murder?" he said jokingly.

"I don't think that would be funny at all, Dean," Quinn rebuked him. "I think that would be terrible."

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Some women had no sense of humour. Still, he guessed he could understand her irritation. Now she would have to wait even longer to get rid of the world's most obnoxious freeloader.

But Oliver actually seemed a lot calmer on this visit than he had been in the past. "How is Andy?" he asked Gail quietly.

She shrugged. "It's hard to say," she said uncomfortably. "He seemed fine when we first got there, but...well, let's just say he's got his challenges."

Oliver nodded. "He was always the impressionable one. I've been trying to talk to him, to send him positive messages to counterbalance the bad ones I'm sure he's receiving from Vincent."

"Well, keep it up," she encouraged him. "It seems like he needs all the help he can get. Once we find your body, we have to go back and see him. He's supposed to tell us what to do to locate Vincent."

"Good luck," Oliver said. "I wish I could help you more."

"That's all right, Oliver," Cas told the ghost. "It seems as if what you've told us will be sufficient. Thank you for your assistance."

As Oliver faded away, the quartet thanked Quinn and left the house. "L.A., here we come," Dean remarked. "Land of smog, fake boobs, and fake people. Great."

"Don't mind him," Sam told the Angels. "He's just grouchy because Nicole decided to go home early."

Dean sighed. "I guess it's just as well. It's gonna take a while for me to get that image of her ripping my heart out of my chest with those big claws out of my head, anyway."

"And here I thought Canadians were more polite than that," Gail quipped lightly.

Dean looked at her for a moment, and then he grabbed her in a headlock, mussing up her hair. "I've been wanting to do that for a while, but I had to wait until Cas couldn't smite me anymore."

"I still have powers, Dean," Cas pointed out, his lips twitching.

Suddenly, Dean stopped short. The four of them had just about reached the place where the Impala was parked, but there was something that Dean wanted to do first, before they all got in the car. He faced Cas now. "I just wanted to say, it's great to have you back. I mean, really back. This is where you belong, Cas. Fighting the good fight. Sammy and I missed you."

Cas was touched. "Thank you, Dean. That means a lot to me." He opened up his arms for a hug, and Dean embraced him, saying, "All right, Buddy. Okay. Let's be men about this, now." But he was smiling, too.

"I have an idea," Gail said. "We'll go to L.A. the day after tomorrow. I want to do something else, tomorrow."

The men looked at her curiously. "What's that?" Sam asked.

"You'll see," Gail replied evasively. "You'll see."

It was a very small affair this time, compared to the last one. There were a couple of nods to tradition, but mostly it was quick and simple, much like Frank and Jody's had been.

Gail and Jody were standing in the back yard of Cas and Gail's Earth home next to Bobby, who had waved his arms and changed the weather so that the temperature was cool, and the trees surrounding the house were the colours of fall foliage. Gail had been unwilling to wait any longer, but at least temperature-wise, she was going to have her fall wedding.

Sam and Dean, Rob and Eric, and Liz and Gabriel sat in chairs facing front, and Rob had little Angela on his lap. They were the only guests. Gail hadn't wanted a big, splashy event. She felt it would be a little too soon after the tragedy, and besides, they were heading to Los Angeles tomorrow on their first mission since leaving Heaven. But she hadn't wanted to wait any longer to be Cas's wife again. Maybe they could have a reception party when they got back.

Frank and Cas were in the house, waiting to make their entrance. In a bit of a role reversal, the men were going to walk to where the women were, this time. But even though some things were different, some other things remained very much the same, Frank noted dryly. Cas had already cried twice, hugged him three times, and now, his soon-to-be brother-in-law was fussing with his hair and checking to see if his tie was on straight.

"Relax, Cas. Everything's fine," Frank said, trying valiantly not to roll his eyes. "You're fine, I'm fine, Gail's fine, everything's fine. Let's get a move on, already."

"I hope that Dean and Sam weren't hurt by my asking you to be my Best Man, this time," Cas fretted for the dozenth time.

"They're fine with it," Frank assured him. "Remember, we said we're just gonna keep it quick and simple, this time. Gail was worried about the same thing on her end, but Liz understood, too. You worry too much."

Cas nodded. Frank was right. It was funny, really. The longer Cas had known Frank, the more he had come to see that there was a lot more to Gail's brother than met the eye.

"Ready?" Frank asked him now, and Cas nodded again.

The men exited the back door of the house and walked over to where Jody and Gail were standing. Cas looked down at Gail, smiling. She was wearing her blue dress. His favourite.

"I deliberately didn't do anything Godly yesterday, so this could be my first official act of the Office," Bobby announced with a smile. "I'm here to re-join these two as husband and wife, and it's an absolute privilege to be able to do it. Cas?"

Cas cleared his throat, trying to keep the lump that was already forming there at bay. "I thought that I knew what marriage was all about, but I had no idea," he said quietly. "It's love and commitment, of course. It's passion, and compassion. But, it's so much more." He took Gail's hands in his. "It's support, and self-sacrifice. It's putting your partner's needs ahead of your own. And, for me especially, it will be spending every moment of every hour of every day loving you, protecting you, and doing my best to make you happy. I love you unconditionally, with all that I am. With everything I have. You are the morning, the afternoon, and the night. You are soft, but you are strong. You are my whole life, my entire reason for existence. There is no me without you." He slipped her wedding ring back on her finger.

Gail was smiling warmly at him. She remembered, when Cas had said those words to her, hoping he would use them as vows, because she thought they were some of the most beautiful things he had ever said to her.

"Anywhere that you are, I'm there, too," Gail responded, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. "Even when we were apart, my heart was always with you. But I don't want to be apart any more, Cas. I don't care what we're doing, or where we are, as long as we're together. You're the love of my life. You're my best friend, my protector, my companion. I've never been happier than when I'm with you, holding your hand. With every year we've been together, I feel closer and closer to you. I love you so much, sweetie." She looked down at their joined hands, but she didn't have to replace Cas's ring. He'd never stopped wearing it.

The Angels looked at Bobby, and Cas gave him a nod. "That's it?" Bobby said in a tone of surprise, and the guests laughed.

"Yes, that's it, Bobby," Cas said with a gentle smile. "We've said what was in our hearts, and we don't want to wait any longer to kiss."

Everyone laughed again. "Now THAT, I can believe," Bobby remarked. "Please bow your heads, then." They did, and he put one hand on Cas's head, and the other hand on Gail's. The white glow came out and enveloped them for a moment, and then it was gone. "You're now husband and wife," Bobby told the couple. "You may kiss - "

Before he'd had the chance to finish the sentence, Cas had already taken Gail in his arms and kissed her, and the guests clapped and cheered. Angela laughed and clapped her hands too, copying everyone.

Hugs and kisses were exchanged with the guests, and then Frank said, "Are you guys sure you're OK with not having a reception, or anything?"

"I told you, we're fine," Gail assured him. "We'll plan some kind of party when we come back."

"We're gonna have your party without you," Dean said, grinning. He clapped Frank on the shoulder. "Put the beer on ice, and get the barbecue ready." He looked at Bobby. "It'll still be summer at Frank's place, won't it?"

"Of course, ya idjit," Bobby said, rolling his eyes. "I just cooled it down here a little, for Gail's sake, 'cause she doesn't like the heat."

"Thank you, Bobby," Gail said, kissing him on the cheek. "I appreciate that."

"We want to thank everyone for coming here today, and we apologize that the ceremony was so short," Cas said.

"Are you kidding? That was the best part," Dean said enthusiastically.

"I wish I could come to your party, there, Frankster, but Liz and I have other plans," Gabriel said to Gail's brother. "Us Angels are going back up to Heaven now. When these guys get back from L.A., we'll have a big bash."

"You're going to Heaven now?" Rob asked Cas and Gail. "How come?"

"We have to pack," Gail told the young man. "We're keeping our offices there, but we're moving out of the suite, and back down here."

"Oh," Rob said. Then his expression brightened. "Well, then, I guess that means we'll be seeing more of you."

Gail gave him a half-shrug. "Maybe. It depends on how much travelling we'll be doing. But, yeah, probably."

"Good," Eric piped up. He was holding Angela now, bouncing her up and down on his arm. She was getting bigger now. She looked at Gail with wide eyes. "Gail," Angela said.

"Finally!" her aunt said happily. It had become a running joke; Angela had been saying everyone's name except for Gail's, and the little girl spoke in brief sentences now. Frank had bragged that she should be ready to start reading simple books soon.

But then, Angela pointed her finger at Gail and said, "Cas." Gail's face fell as everyone laughed. But then, Gail shrugged. "Oh, well. Close enough." She leaned forward and gave her niece a gentle kiss on the forehead. "Actually, you might be the smartest one of us all," Gail said to the child, smiling.

"Come and see us when you get back, 'Aunt Cas'," Eric teased her. "Both of you. Me and Rob have been working out in the basement, but Uncle Frank says our knife work isn't good enough. Maybe you guys can give us some instruction."

"OK, we'll see," Gail said noncommittally. She kind of hated the idea of her young nephews going into the so-called family business, or maybe it was just too soon after the fiasco in Hell, and the loss of their young Angel friends. But, that wasn't her decision.

More kisses and hugs were exchanged, and then the Angels ascended. Cas and Gail went to the suite and packed their belongings, and just as they were finishing up, Ethan knocked lightly on the door.

"Do you two have a minute, before you have to go?" he asked them. He led the couple to the original Academy, the one that Cas had founded. "We just wanted to show you something," their friend said.

They saw it as soon as they entered the gymnasium: a display had been set up on a side wall, in an alcove that hadn't been there before. There was a gold plaque hung high that was inscribed "In Memoriam", and below it were framed photographs of every faculty member that had been lost in the raid in Hell.

Karen had been standing beside the alcove waiting for their arrival, and she came forward now, taking Ethan's hand. "We wanted to come up with a way to honour them," she said softly. "We hope you don't mind."

As Cas moved closer to the pictures, scrutinizing them wordlessly. Gail looked at the couple. "Thank you for doing this," she said to them.

"I thought it was important for future students to see what they looked like, and find out what they stood for," Ethan advised. "Bobby has put me in charge of the Academies. I hope I can do you proud, Cas."

"You will," Cas said softly. He was touching each picture lightly with his fingertips. When he got to Riley's, he lingered for a moment, and Gail's eyes prickled with tears.

"And now, we have a couple of other surprises for you," Karen said to the couple, "and we hope these ones will make you smile. Can you come into Cas's old office with us for a minute?"

Gail took Cas's hand, and the two of them followed their friends into the office that adjoined the gymnasium. Cas looked around for a moment, feeling very nostalgic. He remembered how nervous he had been, that very first day. How Gail had sat on his desk with her feet in his lap, distracting him from his nerves with her quips and her support.

Karen handed Gail a wrapped box. "Bobby told us the two of you were getting remarried today," she said, "so we wanted to be the first ones to give you a wedding present. Especially since I wasn't around the first time." Karen smiled, as Gail opened her mouth to speak. "And I don't want to hear any protests," Ethan's wife added. "Bobby said you were just going to have a small ceremony, and we completely understand." But then, she added, "However, if you don't invite us to the reception, we're going to be very disappointed."

"I don't know what to say," Gail said. "Thank you both. Thanks a lot." She ripped the wrapping off of the box, and Cas lifted the lid.

It was a photo album. Gail took it out of the box and started to flip through it, Cas looking over her shoulder. They were astonished. There were pictures from almost every special occasion and family get-together they had had in the past few years. Gail looked up from the book at the couple, open-mouthed. "How did you do this?" she asked them in a hushed tone.

"I popped around everywhere," Ethan replied. He smiled crookedly. "And I do mean, everywhere. I had a few photos, and so did Frank, and Sam, and Barry, and Kevin...I visited everybody I could think of who might have some pictures." He reached into his shirt pocket. "Including - ta da! - this one, from today." He showed it to them. It was a picture of the two of them kissing, after Bobby had pronounced them married. Ethan was grinning now. "Gabriel took that one. He said it was a pretty safe bet you wouldn't notice."

Ethan handed the photo to Cas, who flipped the pages of the album to the last empty page. He laid the photo on the page, waved his hand, and the picture adhered itself to the page.

Gail started turning pages again. There were photos of the snowman-building competition from that first Christmas. "Oh my God, Cas!" she exclaimed. "Look at how small Rob was, there! Do you remember how much fun that was?"

Cas smiled warmly. "I certainly do," he responded.

"I can't wait to blackmail him with these," Gail said gleefully. She flipped more pages. "Here's Frank and Jody's wedding. That was so much fun. And our first wedding, of course. That was wonderful, but you know what? I enjoyed this one just as much."

"You did?" he asked her, surprised. "Why?"

"Because I was marrying YOU," she answered honestly, and Cas smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Gail closed the album. "Thank you so much. We'll treasure this. I think it might be the most thoughtful present we've ever received." She smiled again. "And, don't you worry. When we get back, we're going to have a huge reception party, and you'll all be invited. We'll party so hard we might have to get Bobby to shut down Heaven the next day."

The couple laughed, and then Karen said, "And now, if we can have a few more minutes of your time, we have one final surprise. For this one, we have to go to the High Office. We know you know where that is," she added, smiling.

All four of them popped over to the reception area outside the High Office. Cas had already packed up his few belongings from there, so it was once again Bobby's office. But as they looked around the waiting area where Laurel's desk was, they were astonished to see a sea of cards, flowers, and gifts.

"These are all for the two of you," Laurel said, coming out from behind the reception desk. "After Cas's speech, Angels started coming here, from all over Heaven. Some of them are tributes and goodbye presents, and a few of the new ones are wedding presents. There's been a steady stream coming in."

Cas and Gail looked at each other, open-mouthed. This was unbelievable. The place was full to overflowing. They started looking closer at everything. There were knitted sweaters and scarves from some of the ladies at the Seniors' Centre, with a card saying that they weren't too old to remember that the temperature on Earth could sometimes get very cold. Gail smiled. That was so sweet of them. She would have to make it a point to handwrite some Thank You notes to the seniors, as soon as she had time.

"Look," Cas said to her. He pointed to another area. There were sheets of coloured paper all over the place, with drawings in crayon. Most of them featured two stick figures holding hands, with hearts and flowers as adornments. Some also had rudimentary houses, or stick figure animals, presumably as pets. One picture even had, somewhat inexplicably, what looked like a spaceship, and a unicorn. Gail laughed out loud. Most of them were addressed to "God, and Mrs. God", but a few had "Cass and Gayul", or equally creative spellings.

Gail started to laugh and cry, at the same time. "Those are from the younger ones, of course," Karen said. "You'll see that there are handmade cards from some of the older ones, too. We gave them a project to do. Liz and I asked them to start with 'I love Cas and Gail because...', and they finished the sentence in their own words. Some of them are very touching, and some of them are hilarious. I think we have a few budding Gabriels on our hands. I'm not sure if that's good, or terrifying."

Ethan pointed. "That one's George's. He said, 'I love Cas and Gail because they gave me my Dad back. And, P.S., because they built the baseball field'." Ethan smiled at the couple. "By the way, that would be mine and Karen's answer, as well."

Gail started to cry even harder now, but Cas knew it was because she was so touched. He took her in his arms as he tried to force down the huge lump in his throat.

Bobby came out from his office. "Hey, I like flowers and gifts as much as the next guy, but it's gonna be impossible to get through here, soon," he said affably. "Want me to ship everything down to your place?" he asked the couple.

"Yes, please," Cas said thickly.

Bobby waved his arms, and everything disappeared. He smiled at the group. "You know, I've kinda missed being able to do that," he quipped. Then he came forward to where Cas and Gail stood, still trying to collect themselves. "It just goes to show how much impact you can have on people, without necessarily even knowing it," he said to them softly. "Safe travels, you two. Don't stay away for too long, OK? And give me a call, if you need anything."

The Angels all exchanged hugs and goodbyes, and then Cas and Gail winked themselves back to the suite to get their bags. They took one last long look around, and then they were gone.


	3. City Of The Angels

Chapter 3 - City Of The Angels

"So, it's gonna take almost a day for us to get there," Dean told the Angels, when they arrived at the bunker. "And don't say anything about zapping us there. I want to be able to bail, as soon as we get those bones. From what I've heard, those LAPD guys don't fool around. Besides, Baby needs to stretch her legs. Poor Baby. She hasn't been on the road for a while, now." He consulted the map he'd brought up on the laptop. "We'll drive through Colorado, and into Arizona. Sorry, you guys, but we're probably gonna have to check into a motel somewhere in Arizona, so Sam and I can get some sleep. It's a little bit of a long drive for me to go all the way."

They knew better by now than to suggest that Sam or Cas do some of the driving, because Dean got all bent out of shape when they did. So they merely looked at each other, shrugging.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," Sam said to Gail, "but this is the hottest time of year, in Arizona and Los Angeles, both."

She sighed heavily. "I was afraid of that, but it's the summertime now. I can't really expect otherwise, can I?"

"Well, we'll make sure to get air-conditioned hotel rooms," Dean said. "I'm pretty sure the Almighty can spring for - " He cut off his sentence, looking embarrassed.

"It's all right, Dean," Cas said mildly. "I'm fine with it. In fact, I'm more than fine. I've been very sad because we've been in mourning for our lost Brothers and Sisters, but aside from that, I'm very relieved not to be holding the High Office any more." He took Gail's hand, giving it a squeeze. "But, having said that, I would be only too glad to spring for a fancy hotel room. It'll be our honeymoon room, after all." He smiled at Gail, and she smiled back at him.

"Yeah, OK. Fine. Whatever," Dean said, looking at the map again. "I wish we could squeeze in a trip to Vegas, but, I get it. We've gotta get Oliver's bones. That's the mission. So, we'll roll into town and see the LAPD, and find out what they did with him. Piece of cake."

Sam pursed his lips. Yeah, right. When had that ever held true for them? Still, he shouldered his laptop bag and picked up his suitcase.

"Now that you guys are married again, we're gonna have to decide on a last name for you, when we check into places," Dean said to Cas and Gail. "You need to check in as Mr. and Mrs...Something. So, what do you think? Mr. and Mrs. Buzzkill? Captain and Mrs. Obvious? What do you think?"

Gail made a face at him. "You think you're pretty funny, don't you?"

"You've asked me that before, and I've answered it before," Dean said with equanimity. "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Maybe he's got a point, my love," Cas mused. "Maybe we SHOULD pick a last name. It seems a little odd not to have one, doesn't it?"

"Maverick," Dean said. "I vote Maverick."

"I vote we never let Dean vote for anything. Ever again," Gail said with a smile.

"You should pick a name for us, my darling," Cas said to Gail, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it lightly.

"Medford," she blurted out, and the men all looked at her. "Sefton. Vegetarian. Who cares? Maybe we'll just pick something from the first book I grab off the shelves, in the library."

"Then it might end up being Banshee, or Ectoplasm," Sam joked. "Maybe you want to pick from a different library."

"It should probably just be something like 'Kissing', 'cause that's pretty much all you guys do, anyway," Dean grumbled, shutting down the computer.

"Sorry, what'd you say, Dean? We were kissing," Gail quipped.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let's go, Mrs. Smartass."

"There you go. There's a last name for you," Sam said, grinning.

"I've got a few choice names for YOU, but I guess I should wait until I've been out of Heaven for more than a day before I start using that kind of language," Gail said, poking Dean.

"Oh, har, har," Dean said, rolling his eyes again. "Leave the jokes to your brother. Here, make yourself useful." He picked up his overnight bag and placed it in her arms. "I've gotta see a man about a horse, and then, we'll get going."

"I don't know why you don't just say you're going to urinate, Dean," Cas said, taking the bag from Gail.

"Who says that's what I'm gonna do?" Dean retorted, arching an eyebrow at his friend.

"Let's go, before he decides to elaborate," Gail said quickly. She picked up her own overnight bag, which Cas immediately took from her. Then he picked up his own, juggling all three bags.

Sam grinned. "Hey, Cas, can you grab mine, too?"

"This was so much easier when I was God," Cas remarked, still juggling.

"Why don't you just give me mine, back?" Gail asked him, bemused.

"Or, why don't you just pop into the garage with them? The trunk's already open," Sam said helpfully.

Cas smiled faintly. If he'd had a free hand, he would have slapped himself on the forehead with it. Of course. He popped into the garage, as Sam and Gail smiled at each other.

Sam picked up his bag. "It's good to be hanging around with you guys again," he told Gail. "How's Cas doing? I mean, really? Is he OK?"

Gail thought for a moment as they started to walk down the hallway towards the garage. "You know what, Sam? I think he is. We're both still very sad, but now that he's no longer in charge of Heaven, I can see him slowly returning back to himself. Finally. It's been a long time coming, but I think we're heading in the right direction. Being with you guys helps him, and so does the fact that we have some very important stuff to do here on Earth."

Sam nodded. Cas did seem a lot better to him, too. He and Dean had talked about it at Frank's place, after the wedding. They'd had a nice time, there. Frank had sprung for some steaks, and Rob and Eric had asked Sam and Dean and Bobby about a million questions about Hunting. Jody'd had one beer with them, but then she had begged off dinner, saying she had a headache. She'd taken Angela in the house with her, so that the little girl wouldn't have to hear too much about monsters and killing and blood, but she knew that they would have to figure out what to do about that particular topic, soon. Angela was proving to be an increasingly bright, precocious child, who not only imitated what she saw and heard, but was beginning to come up with a few gems of her own. When Frank had taken his little daughter to City Hall recently to pick up the paperwork for his candidacy, Angela had pointed at a pregnant woman, saying, "Elephant!" Frank had picked Angela up in his arms and hustled her out of the building before anyone could catch him laughing, and he was still laughing when he'd gotten home and told Jody about it.

Sam had stared after Jody, when she'd gone in the house. Strange; he'd never known her to get headaches. Of course, when Sam and Jody had been hanging around each other, they'd all been considerably younger. Jody hadn't been the age she was now. Plus, having a husband, two young men, and a toddler underfoot all the time was a pretty heavy load.

Once the bags were stowed in the Impala and Dean pulled the car out of the garage, Sam checked his cell phone. "I hate to tell you this, Gail, but the temperature in Arizona just hit a hundred degrees."

She groaned. "Why couldn't Oliver have had the good sense to be buried in the Arctic Circle?"

Cas put his arm around her, cuddling her to him. "Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure to get us a room that has air conditioning."

"I think they'll pretty much all have air conditioning, Cas," Sam said patiently.

"She doesn't need air conditioning; she needs ten blocks of ice," Dean said sarcastically. "And a penguin."

"Dammit! I should have brought Ralph!" she joked.

Even though the weather started off hot and got increasingly hotter once they got through Colorado, Gail was enjoying the scenery and the light banter back and forth between the four of them. She hadn't realized how much she had missed this. Cas was relaxed, even cheerful, as he pointed out the sights and told them stories about the formation of the mountains and the valleys in the area. Sam made a good-natured remark about not needing Google, and when Dean stopped at a gas station to fill up, he brought them all ice-cold soda at the machine beside the pumps. Gail joked that she wasn't going to drink hers, she was just going to put it down her pants, and Dean swallowed his cola in such a big gulp that he let out an epic belch, making Sam laugh.

When they got to Arizona, Cas asked Dean to find a hotel, instead of a motel. He wanted Gail to have as comfortable of a room as possible, in the extreme heat. They checked in, and as soon as Gail walked into the room, she let out a relieved gasp. Cas dropped the bags on the floor and crossed the room immediately to the thermostat on the wall. He turned it down as low as it would go. "Hopefully, this will be cold enough," he said to her.

"Oh, Cas, that feels great," she said, lifting her hair off her neck. "I'm going to have a shower, and when I come back out, I'm hoping I'll need a sweater."

He smiled. "Even better; I'll cuddle you, and keep you warm."

"Oh, we'll be doing that, anyway," she told him, moving over to her overnight bag. "Technically, it's our honeymoon, isn't it?" She took out a change of clothes, and then she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and headed into the bathroom.

Cas stood there for a moment. She was right; technically, this was their honeymoon. What a poor one it was, though. Now, he felt badly. Gail hated the heat, and she was being forced to spend what was supposed to be her most romantic time in one-hundred-degree weather, looking for her deceased uncle's bones.

When Gail got out of the shower, she was surprised to see Cas sitting up at the small table by the window. There was a bucket of ice in the middle of the table, with a bottle of champagne in it.

"It was the best I could arrange, on short notice," Cas said softly. "But if you would like, we can at least have a toast to our re-marriage."

"I'd like that, Cas," she said, smiling. She sat in the chair on the other side of the table as he opened the bottle and poured them each a glass.

"To us," Cas said, raising his glass. "To being husband and wife. To never being apart, ever again."

"To us," Gail echoed, "raising her own glass and gently clinking it with his. "To being married again. To never, ever, ever being apart."

They each had a sip, and Cas wrinkled his nose comically. "Bubbles," he said by way of explanation, and Gail laughed. She rose from her chair, carrying her glass, and sat down in his lap. Cas put his glass down, and wrapped his arms around her. "I meant what I said about never being apart," she quipped lightly. "I don't even want a table separating us, right now."

Cas's arms tightened briefly as he looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry about so many things, my darling," he said to her. "I'm sorry I haven't been very attentive to you, and your needs. I've just been feeling so sad. So guilty..."

"I know, Cas," she said, touching his face. "I understand. You don't have to explain. I know." She gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. "But we've got a brand new start, now. We'll never forget our lost friends, but I'm hoping we can move forward. Do you think we can do that, sweetie?"

"I can do anything, as long as you're by my side," he replied.

"Then let's have a toast to that," she said, gesturing with her glass.

Cas toasted with her and, true to form, a dribble of champagne slid from Gail's lips down to her chin. She put her glass down on the table. "Oops."

Cas smiled. "Allow me." He ran his thumb over her lips, down to her chin. Impulsively, she opened her lips and took his thumb in her mouth, licking it. Cas made a low sound in his throat. "Thank you for being so patient," he said to her. "So understanding." He lifted his face to hers, and she kissed him on the mouth.

"I need you, right now," Cas told her. "Is that all right?"

"I was really hoping you would say that," she said, smiling. "I'm freezing, here."

Cas smiled again. "I can fix that." He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed, laying on top of her. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at her. "I wish I had more to offer you, my darling."

Gail smiled mischievously. "If I recall correctly, you have a LOT to offer," she said softly. Then she reached down to touch him. "Yes. Yes, I do remember correctly."

Cas smiled once more. He couldn't seem to stop. She was so cute. "I have all of the love in my heart to offer you," he told her. "I hope that will be enough."

"It always has been," she said. "It always has been."

The next morning, the quartet got on the road early. Dean was yawning, drinking coffee from a to-go cup. "I hope you appreciate this," he said to Gail in a mildly grumpy tone. "Sammy said if we get on the road now, we'll avoid the hottest part of the day."

"Is it hot? I hadn't noticed," Gail said, looking fondly at Cas. She was thinking of the previous afternoon, and evening, and then again, this morning. They'd made up for a lot of lost time. She was glad the room's air conditioning system was working so well, because things had gotten very hot between the two of them. Once they had begun to make love, they had lost all interest in drinking the champagne. But at one point, when Gail had mentioned that she was starting to feel very warm, Cas had gone over to the table and upended the bottle into the ice water. Then, he had brought the bucket over to the nightstand, picked out an ice cube, and put it in her mouth. "No bubbles, this way," he had quipped. She had melted the ice in her mouth, and then she'd said, "I have an idea."

The two of them had ended up enjoying the champagne-infused ice in different and creative ways while cooling off their bodies at the same time, and Cas took her hand in the back of the car now as they smiled at each other, remembering.

Dean rolled his eyes. He was sure he didn't want to know what those two were smiling about, back there. "What have you got, Sammy? Did you find a homicide detective we can talk to when we get there? Somebody on cold cases, maybe?"

"I don't think we'll have to worry about cold cases, necessarily," Sam responded. He half-turned in his seat to include Cas and Gail in the conversation. "I was doing some research, and there's an active investigation, going on right now. They're calling it a modern-day Hillside Stranglers case. They've had six bodies found in the past three months, dumped on hillsides by the freeway, just like way back then, in the '70s. I don't know if they're gonna count Oliver in the recent series because he died a few years back, but in a strange way, this could actually work in our favour. If his murder is being counted as part of the current investigation, we have a much better chance of finding out where his remains are."

"The Hillside Stranglers? That sounds familiar," Gail remarked.

Dean smirked. "You've come to the right place. Sammy's into serial killers. A little TOO into them, if you ask me."

Sam made a face. "It just so happens that it's a very famous case, Dean. And, it's entirely germane to the situation."

"Jermaine?" Dean said doubtfully. "Wasn't he one of the Jackson Family?"

Gail burst out laughing. "I swear you say these things just to make me laugh, don't you, Dean?"

"Yeah. Sure. That's right. I guess you're onto me," he said quickly.

Sam's lips were twitching furiously. Right. "Anyway," he said, "the original Hillside Stranglers operated in 1977 and 1978. They were cousins. Kenneth Bianchi was the younger man, and Angelo Buono was the older one. They kidnapped, raped, tortured and murdered 10 females, aged 12 to 28 years old, dumping their bodies on the hillsides of the Hollywood Hills. Apparently, that's what's happening now, but there have been two men found this time around, as well as four women. That's why I'm thinking that they might be considering Oliver as part of the series, even though his death was a few years ago. That's assuming they even found his body, of course. But if they did, they might be looking to tie his murder in with those others."

"So we'll just go in there with our fake badges, and find out," Dean commented. "S.O.P."

"We might want to be a little careful how we approach that," Sam said dryly. "The original Stranglers told some of the girls they accosted that they were detectives, and they flashed fake badges. We want to make sure we bring our 'A' game; otherwise, they might think WE'RE the killers, injecting ourselves into the investigation. That happens often, in these types of cases. In fact, they might be more suspicious of us, because if the modern-day killers are patterning themselves after the original ones, they might be looking for two men. Maybe we should send in Cas and Gail, as the first team."

"Oh, like there have never been serial killer teams of a man and a woman, before," Dean scoffed. There was a pause, and then he said, "HAVE there been men and women serial killer teams?"

"I don't know if I should answer that," Sam said. "I don't want to be accused of being 'too into' serial killers, if I know the answer."

"There have been," Cas answered, rather unexpectedly, "but the occurrences are thankfully rare. If you are worried that the police might view you and Sam with suspicion, why don't the four of us all go in together?"

Dean considered that for a moment. "Yeah, OK. Maybe that's not a bad idea."

"I'm on it," Sam said. He had a template on both his phone and his laptop that enabled him to insert fake names beside their pictures and then print up copies to insert into the folders for the FBI badges they carried with them. He and Dean had been doing that for years. Then Sam had added Cas's picture, and in recent years, Gail's. "What should our names be, Gail?" Sam asked her.

She thought for a moment. "Gibb, Summer, Jackson, and Sledge."

Dean's forehead wrinkled. "Why do I get the feeling those are names from some dumbass pop group?"

"I don't know, Dean, but they're not," Gail said innocently, but then, she couldn't resist: "But, they ARE big names from the disco era, in honour of the case from the late '70s."

Sam laughed at the stricken expression on his brother's face. "OK, that's it," Dean said. "I'm pulling over at the next exit, and you're getting out of the car. You can walk the rest of the way."

"We don't use the 'D' word in this car, when it comes to music," Sam said, trying not to crack up laughing. "Way to go, Gail. I think my brother is having a stroke."

"You realize what an empty threat that is, right?" Gail said to Dean, grinning. "In fact, that would actually work in my favour. Cas and I could just pop over to the hotel now, and crank up the air conditioning."

"Remind me why we drive those two around, again?" Dean asked Sam.

"Because you love us, Dean, and you enjoy our company," Cas piped up.

"Oh. Yeah, right. That," Dean said grumpily.

"Awwww, we love you, too," Gail said, poking her head out to the front seat. She made kissing noises by Dean's ear, and he swatted at the air as if shooing away a fly.

"Cas!" Dean protested. "Do something!"

"Are you sure you want me to do something, Dean?" Cas asked his friend.

"Yeah! She's driving me nuts!" Dean exclaimed.

"All right, Dean," Cas said agreeably. He put his hands on Gail's waist and gently pulled her into the back seat. Then he wrapped his arms around her and began to kiss her.

"Awww, geez," Dean complained, rolling his eyes.

"You wanted me to do something, Dean," Cas said, smiling. "So I'm doing something. My favourite thing, in fact."

Gail laughed delightedly. She canoodled with Cas for another minute or two, and then she said, "OK, OK, we'll behave. Tell us some more about the Hillside Stranglers, Sam. We should probably have some background, if we're impersonating FBI Agents. I'm sure if we were real Agents, we would have done our research for this. So, how did they find out who the Stranglers were?"

"Like I said, they were spotted by some girls who they didn't kill, and some of them were hookers, who knew the cousins," Sam replied matter-of-factly. "They didn't exactly cover their tracks very well. Buono was arrested, and Bianchi fled the state, but it wasn't long until he was arrested, for murdering two other women. He claimed he had a split personality, but they could tell that he was faking it. So then, Bianchi agreed to plead guilty and testify against Buono, his cousin, in exchange for leniency."

"Nice," Dean said sarcastically.

"Oh, it gets better," Sam remarked. "When he was in prison, Bianchi began a relationship with a woman who became obsessed with him, so much so that she was subsequently imprisoned for attempting to strangle yet another woman. She was trying to convince the authorities that the real strangler was still on the loose. If she'd been successful in killing the woman, she was going to leave a sample of Bianchi's DNA on the body. But I won't go into any more details, 'cause the rest is pretty disgusting."

"Wow. There are sure some sick people in this world," Dean commented. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: monsters, I get; it's people who are scary."

They kept on driving until they got to Glendale. After some discussion, Dean had told the group that he would rather stay there than in the smog-filled city, and Sam had agreed. It was a very hot day, so he'd asked Dean if he could find a motel with a swimming pool. His brother pulled into The Palms, which was a middle-of-the-road establishment advertising air conditioning, a swimming pool, and free Wi-Fi.

"Let's get something to eat," Dean said, parking the car. "Then we'll change into our suits, and visit our good buddies in the LAPD."

"I'll print out our badges," Sam said, taking his laptop and a portable printer out of the trunk of the car.

Gail groaned softly. "It's 95 degrees out, and I have to wear a suit," she complained.

"I'm sorry, my darling," Cas said, taking her hand. "I'll make sure we get a bucket of ice, when we get back."

Gail gave his hand a squeeze as Dean said, "Why? Angels don't drink." They continued to smile at each other, and Dean did a double-take. Then he sighed. "Come on, Lover Boy," he said to Cas, grabbing his friend by the arm. "Let's go check in."

They were standing in the morgue a couple of hours later, viewing the body of a woman who had been found the day before, bringing the victim total up to 7.

"As you can see here, we have the standard bruising and hemorrhaging around the neck from the ligature," the medical examiner pointed out, "but we also have puncture marks, here, and here."

Sam peered closer to where the doctor was indicating, and he and Dean exchanged glances. "So, this is seven victims now, right?" he asked the doctor. "Five women, and two men?"

"Yes, all in the last 3 months," the M.E. confirmed, nodding.

"No other vics?" Dean asked the man. "Like, maybe a cold case from a few years ago? An older guy?"

Detective Gebhart narrowed his eyes. He had brought the Agents down here to look at the latest victim in the series, but: "Why are you talking about an older guy?" he asked Dean. "Is the Bureau holding out on us?"

Before Dean could figure out how to answer that, a tall, dark-haired woman entered the room. "Boy, that's the last time I go for a late lunch," she said good-naturedly. "What'd I miss?"

"The Bureau sent a team of specialists to work your case, Aggie," Detective Gebhart said sarcastically.

"Don't call me Aggie," she said automatically, but her lips were twitching. She was looking at the Winchesters and Cas now. "Wow," she remarked. "They're sure growing them tall and good-looking at the Fibbie headquarters nowadays." Then, she looked at Gail. "And, what's this? A sister of the badge? With Academy-mates like these, I'm surprised you got any studying done." She stuck her hand out for Gail to shake. "Detective Agnes Bidwell, at your service. I'm lead on the Hollywood Hills case." She looked at Gebhart. "Actually, I'm surprised they haven't come up with a catchy, serial-killer name for this one, yet. It's probably hard for the press to get a handle on. Men and women, different ages and races. Strangled, yet cause of death is indeterminate."

"Indeterminate?" Sam said, puzzled.

"That's what I said, Stretch," Detective Bidwell said, amused. "Didn't the good doctor tell you that?"

The Medical Examiner sighed. "I hadn't gotten to that yet, Agnes."

She looked at Detective Gebhart. "There you go. Agnes. Not Aggie. Let that be a lesson to you, Dick. I don't like diminutives. See what I did there? I know your first name is Richard, but every time you call me Aggie, I'm going to call you Dick. How's that?"

A laugh bubbled up in Gail's throat, and she tried to cover it with a cough. But Detective Bidwell looked at her, smiling. "You see? Agent Summer gets it."

It was pretty ironic that her fake name was Summer, Gail thought, but Sam had taken the disco names she'd given him in the car and arbitrarily assigned them. Well, so he claimed, unless he was trying to be funny, which was a possibility, of course. She looked at Sam now, but he was looking at Detective Bidwell. "So strangulation isn't the cause of death?" Sam said rhetorically. "I assume you've done a tox screen." He pointed to the puncture marks. "Actually, this pattern looks familiar. Agent Jackson, what do you think?" he asked Dean.

Dean's forehead wrinkled. Now that his brother mentioned it, the puncture wounds DID look familiar. They looked almost like..."Are there snakes on the hillsides out here?" he asked the Detectives.

Agnes laughed. "Unless you count the guy I went out with last night, the answer would be no."

Richard restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Damn Feebs. Shouldn't they know that already? "I'll leave you to it, then," he said, hurrying out of the room.

Agnes smirked. "'Bye, Dick. I mean, Richard," she called after him. Then she looked at Dean. "Why did you ask about snakes?"

He gave her a half-shrug. "Dunno, really. Just covering all the bases."

"And why did you ask my good friend Detective Gebhart about another vic?" she asked him shrewdly.

"We have a cold case from a few years ago that sounds like it might fit the profile," Sam replied. "An older gentleman, who was apparently dumped on a hillside near the city limits. He would have sustained extensive neck injuries. Could you check your records and see if you've got anything on him? We can give you a name, and an approximate date and time of death."

Detective Bidwell looked at them all curiously for a moment. "Okie-dokie," she said slowly. "I'll tell you what. Come up to the squad room, and I'll get your contact info from you. It might take a while to check the old files, so give me your cell numbers and where you're staying, and I'll put a rush on it."

They left her their information, and then drove back to the motel. After they'd showered and changed, Sam wanted to go for a swim, so the four of them met at the poolside. Dean ordered beers for himself and Sam, and Gail asked for an iced tea, "emphasis on the ice". Cas demurred. Gail shook her head. It was unbelievable. She felt like she was slow roasting on a spit, and not only was her husband dressed in his customary shirt and pants, he hadn't even broken a sweat. Must be nice.

Sam had a quick dip in the pool, and he came back to the table toweling off and looking thoughtful. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he said to Dean.

"That you could use a little manscaping?" Dean said, smirking.

Sam made a face. "Yeah, real funny, Dean. No; that we're looking at a vetala."

"What's that?" Gail asked him, curious.

"It's a serpent-like, vampiric creature, that can appear human," Sam responded. "I was thinking about the Hillside Strangling cases, and the punctures we saw on the victim. Vetalas prefer to hunt in pairs, and they don't make any distinction between male and female prey. Since the modern-day killings don't have a sexual assault component, I'm thinking vetala. They sedate their victims with venom, and feed off their blood for a few days. The victim typically dies after about four feedings."

"Aw, geez, I hate vetalas," Dean said with a disgusted expression. "Son of a bitch. They look like humans, but when they feed on people, their eyes get all snake-y, and the fangs come out. I'd almost rather deal with a Leviathan."

"How do you kill it?" Cas wanted to know.

"Actually, it's pretty easy," Sam said, taking a drink of his beer. "You just stab it in the heart with a silver knife. We've got a few of those in the car. All we have to do now is figure out where they're holed up. Like snakes, they prefer dry, humid places. Tropical."

"So, like, everywhere, here," Gail groused. She took a couple of sips of her iced tea, and then held the cold glass to her forehead.

Sam tried not to grin. "Yeah, pretty much. We're gonna have to see if we can get some more info about where all the bodies were found. Maybe I can figure out an algorithm. Narrow down where to look."

"If Aggie doesn't call us by tomorrow morning, we'll go back and get more intel," Dean said decisively. "We've still gotta find out where Oliver is, but if these murders are vetalas, we've gotta take care of that, too. No way LAPD's gonna know how to handle that." He looked at Gail. "Hey, perk up, Mrs. Buzzkill."

Gail sighed. "The sooner, the better. I'm boiling, here."

"Get a bathing suit on, and jump in," Sam suggested, nodding at the pool.

"I don't have a bathing suit," she remarked. "I've never had one."

"Why not?" Sam asked her, curious.

"I never learned how to swim," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Get outta here," Dean said, astonished. "Never?" Gail shrugged, and Dean looked at Cas. "Can YOU swim?" he asked his friend.

"Yes, of course, Dean," Cas said calmly.

"Yeah? Good," Dean said, his lips twitching. He got up and grabbed Gail, picking her up and throwing her in the pool, making a big splash. "You're welcome!" he called after her. Then he sat back down in his chair, smirking, picking up his beer bottle.

"Dean!" Cas chided him, springing out of his chair.

"I was getting sick of hearing about how hot she was," Dean said, still smirking. "Guess she'll be cooled off, now."

Cas dove into the pool and wrapped his arms around his wife, treading water until he got her to the side of the pool. Then he boosted her up, helping her to climb out. She stalked around to where Dean was sitting. "What the hell was THAT?" she demanded angrily.

"You're cooled off now, aren't you?" he retorted.

Actually, he did kind of have a point, Gail realized. But she wasn't about to let him get away with it. "Some day, somewhere, somehow, when you least expect it, I'm going to get you," she told him, shaking her finger at him.

"Ooooh, I'm scared," Dean said, pretending to shiver with fear.

"Let's go to our room and dry off, my love," Cas said, taking her hand. "We'll see you in an hour or so," he told the Winchesters, smiling faintly. "Perhaps three."

Gail stuck her tongue out at Dean, and then she and Cas walked away.

Detective Gebhart was sitting at his computer, lost in thought. He looked a couple of desks over, at Detective Bidwell. She was drinking coffee, combing through the back files. She'd told him what the Agents had said they were looking for.

Richard shook his head. There was something fishy about those so-called Agents. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Aggie seemed to be taking them at face value, but he thought she was being naive. So she'd been at the top of her Academy class; so what? She didn't have the instincts that he did. The Chief had appointed her as lead on the case, but it should have been Richard. He had the seniority, and he'd worked Homicide a damn sight longer than Bidwell had. There was only one problem: he wasn't a woman. LAPD's rep had taken hit after hit for the last few decades, and the Commissioner had sent down the word that they had to appear to the public to be more equal-opportunity. More inclusive. The hell with time of service, or seniority. So, Gebhart had found himself playing second fiddle to Agnes "Aggie" Bidwell, who was good enough at her job, he acknowledged grudgingly. But she was still wet behind the ears. Right now, she was looking through the recent cold case files, trying to see if she could find a match for the vic they'd been talking about. And while it wasn't entirely unheard of for a serial killer, or killers, to have a "cooling off" period between their crimes, the request just seemed a little weird to him. Oddly specific. So when Gebhart had come back to his desk from the morgue, he had checked the FBI database, and then he'd called a buddy of his over at Quantico. And guess what? No record of Agents Gibb, Summer, Jackson, and/or Sledge, matching the descriptions of their visitors. Something about those last names was bugging him, too; something he couldn't quite figure out. But the 1970s were a long time ago, and Detective Gebhart wasn't really a music fan. Still, he had a bee in his bonnet now.

If it had been just two guys, or even three, Richard might have thought that the so-called Agents might be the killers themselves, infusing themselves into the investigation. Many serial killers got their jollies from doing that kind of thing. The original Hillside Stranglers had gone around the 'hood, flashing fake police badges, and asking questions about the victims. Three men was admittedly a bit of a stretch, but, three men and a woman? As far as Gebhart knew, that would definitely be one for the record books. So if they weren't the killers, then, who were they? And who was the old guy they were asking about?

Richard should just go over there and tell Bidwell what he had found out. But something was holding him back. Maybe, if it came out that she had shared confidential information with members of the public without having done the proper checks on their credentials, Bidwell would be demoted, and Gebhart could assume the lead position, which should rightfully have been his, anyway. He sat back in his chair, deciding to wait and see what Agnes was going to do next.

Agnes already knew the four of them weren't Agents; in fact, she'd known the instant she'd shaken Gail's hand. She also knew that Detective Gebhart was giving her the side-eye now, and she knew why, too. It didn't take a psychic to figure out that he was pea-green with envy that it was Agnes who had been made the lead on the case, instead of him. But, was that her fault? Richard was thinking that it had more to do with affirmative action than her abilities, but ol' Dick could go take a long walk off the Santa Monica pier. Admittedly, Aggie's psychic talents had made it much easier for her throughout her career, but she had worked hard to get where she was, too.

Here. This looked like the case they'd been talking about. A few years ago, a man who'd looked to be in his 70s had been found in a gully off the freeway, just outside of Los Angeles. Technically not the hillside, but his body could have rolled down into the gully. It had taken a while for the unfortunate man's body to be found, and by that time, the M.E. had been unable to determine the cause of death. But it appeared as though animal predators had been at the corpse, because the trauma to the neck area had been extreme. Still, Aggie was tapping her fingers on the file now, lost in thought. Even though the vic had been found a few years ago, before this recent spate of killings, his death might just fit the profile. It certainly couldn't be ruled out, anyway, not without some further investigation.

Detective Bidwell threw a glance in Richard's direction, but he was pretending to be studying his computer monitor now. What an ass. Fine. She didn't need him, anyway.

She scooped her cell phone off of her desk, picked up the file, and left the squad room.

Cas and Gail had disrobed and dried off from their unexpected dip in the pool, and typically for them, one thing had led to another. They were laying in bed now, and Gail was stretching languorously.

"You know, I feel a little bit guilty," she said to her husband. "Here we are, looking for my Uncle's dead body and viewing murder victims, yet I'm the happiest I've been in a while. Is that really weird?"

He gave her a gentle smile. "Ordinarily, it might be, but, that is what our lives are like. But I have to confess, I'm very happy, as well. I'm very glad you suggested that we remarry right away. I missed you so much."

"I missed you too, sweetie," she said, kissing him on the lips.

"Are you getting warm again?" he asked her, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"I might be," she said coyly. "Is there any ice left?"

Cas propped himself up and reached into the ice bucket he'd left on the nightstand, scooping out an ice cube. The ice he'd gotten from the dispenser outside had melted a bit, but not too much. He ran the ice cube lightly down her stomach from her breasts to her belly button, and as it melted on her warm skin, the water pooled there. Cas tossed the ice cube back into the bucket and then he bent to her stomach, licking up the cool water. He lapped at her belly button, and she giggled. She almost never giggled, but when he did that, she giggled every time.

"I'm sorry; do you want me to stop?" he said. But he was still doing it.

"Of course not," she responded, clutching at his hair.

But he did stop after a moment, because there was something else he wanted to do so much more. He slid down and parted her legs. He lifted them gently over his shoulders and looked down at her face. Then he bent his head and started to make love to her with his lips and his tongue, and she forgot about everything else but the euphoric feeling of him loving her.

A short while later, Cas's cell phone rang. "Hey, lovebirds, you'd better get dressed," Dean said. "Detective Bidwell's on her way over. Oh, and tell Gail she can wear shorts and a T-shirt. She knows we're not FBI. But the good news is she's willing to talk to us, anyway. She said she's bringing an old file, and it sounds like it might be Oliver."

Cas and Gail showered and dressed right away, and they walked over to Sam and Dean's room. About twenty minutes later, Detective Bidwell knocked on the door. Once they were all seated around the table, she said, "I'm a big believer in straight talk, so I'll get right to the point. I know you're not FBI Agents. So does Detective Gebhart. But, he knows because he ran your IDs. I'd do a bit of a better job on that, by the way. Maybe create fake profiles for yourselves on the Quantico database, if you have the technology. Just don't tell anyone I said that. Last I looked, it was a federal offense. A great big one."

Sam's brow furrowed. "Why are you telling us that, then?"

Agnes looked at Gail. "Because I was raised to believe in Angels."

Gail's mouth dropped open. "How did you know?" she asked the woman.

"I'm a psychic," Aggie replied. "I knew, the second I shook your hand." She looked up at Cas, who was standing beside Gail. "I know he's your husband, and he's an Angel, too." She looked at Sam and Dean. "And I know that you two are humans, and you're brothers. What I don't know is why you're here, looking into these murders." She smiled grimly. "Dick thinks you're copycat killers, or something. But Dick reads too many true crime books."

"It's complicated, but basically, the man we were asking you about was my Uncle," Gail told the Detective. "We're trying to find his remains and dispose of them properly, so his spirit can rest."

Agnes regarded her calmly. That actually made sense to her. "So, you tried to tie your Uncle's murder in to the current cases, so that I would give you the information?"

Dean nodded. "That's how it started, but since you've been so honest with us, we'll be honest with you: we might be able to help you with your murders."

"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "How's that?"

Dean gave her a thin smile. "I'm hoping that, since you believe in Angels and ghosts, you'll believe in monsters, too." He went on to tell her his and Sam's theory about the murders being committed by vetalas.

Agnes swallowed hard. "Ummmm...do you mind shaking my hand for a minute?"

Dean extended his hand, and they shook briefly. "Holy crap," Agnes said, dazed. "You're telling the truth. So...snake monsters, huh?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah. If you want, I can help you triangulate the possible location of their den. If you could show me where each of the bodies was found, we can probably figure it out."

"Thanks, Sam," the Detective said. As Sam went to get his laptop, she opened the paper file she'd brought. "If the decedent is your Uncle, I can tell you where his remains are," she said to Gail. "The victim was unidentified, and no one came forward to claim his body. So he was buried in Hilltop Cemetery, in the John Doe section. I have the Lot number here in the file. We record those, in case we have to go back and exhume the body if something breaks in the case. But frankly, a lot of these types of murders are never solved. If we can somehow verify that he's your Uncle, I can release his remains to you, unofficially, of course. Let's face it; no one's going to be concerned about a 70-year-old, unidentified John Doe from a cold case. Not when white girls from Brentwood are dying." Then she grimaced. "Sorry, that's just the jaded cop in me talking. Forget I said that. I didn't really mean it. I just hate to see murderers get away with their crimes."

Gail was thinking now. "If we had a bone from his brother, who's my other Uncle, could you do a DNA test on it and compare it with these remains? That should prove it, right?"

Aggie's lips twitched briefly. "OK, I'm not even going to ask how you got that bone. But yes, theoretically, that would establish the family connection. It would take months to get the results of that test, though, even if I put a rush on it. This is L.A., you know."

"I'll tell you what," Sam said, approaching the table carrying his laptop in his hand. "How about if we make a deal? If we help you with your case, and you tell us where your John Doe is, I'll take one of the bones to a guy I know, back home. He owes me a few favours, so we should be able to get the test done right away. If he verifies they're a match, we'll take the remains off your hands. But we promise not to leave town until we figure out if it's vetalas you're dealing with, and if it is, we can kill them for you. How does that sound?"

"Sounds good to me," Aggie said, "although if the killers are what you say they are, I have no idea how I'm going to do the paperwork on that."

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," Sam said, placing his laptop on the table.

After a bit of deduction, Sam identified two potential locations where he thought the vetalas might be holed up. The five of them split into two groups, to check each location. Detective Bidwell was going to go with Cas and Sam, and Dean and Gail were going to team up. Cas had wanted to go with Gail, but he realized it didn't make any sense for both Angels to be at the same location. If one of the teams found the vetalas' lair, then either he or Gail could call the other on their frequency, and then transport their team to where the others were, immediately.

Agnes had an apartment in Glendale, so they all drove from the motel to her place in Baby, and then she, Sam and Cas got into her car, and Gail moved into the front seat of the Impala. Then the teams drove off into separate directions, after Sam armed them all with silver knives from Baby's trunk.

Gail was smiling. "I feel so privileged, riding shotgun," she told Dean. "Actually, I'm trying to remember if I've ever been promoted to the front seat before." She looked down. "This is definitely the most leg room I've ever had, in any vehicle."

Dean smirked. They drove in silence for a few minutes, and then he said, "How's Cas? Is he doing OK?"

Gail nodded. "Yeah, he really is, Dean. He loves being here with you guys, helping. I'm happy to see him so relaxed."

"And how are YOU doing?" he inquired.

"Look at you, caring about your friends," she teased him lightly. "I'm great, Dean. Very happy." A pause, and then she said, "But you know I'm totally going to get you back about that pool thing, right?"

Dean laughed. "Cooled you off, though, didn't it?" He was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "For the record, me and Sammy are glad you guys are back, too. You know I just like to give you a hard time, right?"

She smiled. "I know, Dean. That's the kind of relationship we have. Are you kidding? If you didn't give me a hard time, I would be afraid you didn't love me anymore."

"Well, don't worry about that, 'cause I'm always gonna give you a hard time," he assured her.

"Oh," Gail remarked. "Well, then, that's good. I guess."

The two of them laughed together, and then Gail asked him, "What's going on with you and Nicole? I never really got the chance to ask you."

Dean sighed. "I don't know, Gail. I'm starting to wonder if she's really even interested in seeing me, any more."

Gail's heart sank. "Why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know," he said again. "She seemed really freaked out when we went to Quinn's. And she doesn't even know about any of that Ammit crap. She'd better not ever find out about that, or I'm toast."

Gail frowned. She didn't necessarily disagree, but: "It must be hard, dating somebody you have to keep stuff from. I can't even imagine what that would be like."

"Yeah, you and Cas probably tell each other everything," he said, making a face.

Now it was Gail's turn to shrug. "Well, we're different," she said softly. "Every couple's different."

"We're gonna be there, soon," Dean said. "Make sure you've got that silver knife ready."

"I will," she assured him. "But if there are people there, how will we know if they're those 'vitality' things, or whatever?"

He smirked again. "Vetalas. I dunno, Gail. We'll figure it out when we get there. This might not even be the right place."

It was full dark when they got to the location. Gail put the silver knife in her front right pocket, and then she quietly exited the car. Dean did the same on the driver's side, and they walked up the driveway to the front of the house.

A tall, thin man answered the door. "What can I do for you?" he asked them, pleasantly enough.

"My wife and I are lost," Dean told the man. "The roads are really dark and winding, here. If we tell you where we're going, can you help us figure out what we're doing wrong?"

The man frowned. "Sure. I guess so."

There was a pause, but the guy didn't invite them in, or open the door any wider. "Uh...can we come in for a minute?" Dean prompted him.

"I don't think so," the man said, tight-lipped. "It's dark out, and I don't know you."

Suddenly, there was a noise coming from the inside of the house. It sounded like a woman, trying to shout from behind a gag, or someone's hand.

Gail and Dean exchanged quick glances as the man who'd answered the door said, "Check Google." He started to close the door, but Dean shoved it, hard, and it flew open. The man staggered backwards, and his eyes narrowed into yellow slits for a moment.

Gail called Cas immediately on their frequency, and she took the silver knife out of her pocket, rushing towards the direction of the woman's voice. Dean took his knife out and began to fight with the man. He pinned the guy to the wall and said, "Show me those fangs, Snake Guy."

"'Snake Guy'?" Sam said from behind Dean. "Pretty lame, dude."

"Hey, sue me. I couldn't think of anything," Dean said, grunting as the vetala fought back, breaking Dean's hold on him. It spun Dean around, pinning him against the wall. Then it opened its mouth, baring its fangs.

"Thanks for the green light," Dean said cheerfully. Now that he had confirmation that the guy definitely wasn't a human, Dean plunged his silver knife into its chest, and it crumpled to the ground.

Sam snapped his fingers. "Kaa," he said.

"What?" Dean said, wondering if his brother was having a stroke.

"The snake from The Jungle Book," Sam elaborated. Dean looked blankly at his brother, and Sam rolled his eyes. "Pick up a book, sometime."

"Where is Gail?" Cas asked the men. He had popped both Agnes and Sam into the front hallway of the house, but Agnes had immediately run out the front door, so Cas had followed her to see why, trusting that the Winchesters would protect Gail. As it turned out, Agnes had run outside to vomit. The sudden teleportation had made her extremely queasy. She had shouted to Cas to go back inside and help the others, and she would be along in a minute.

"Little help here, guys?!" Gail yelled from the living room area.

The men ran in there and saw her backing up, as four vetalas advanced on her at once. She'd already stabbed one, but they had her surrounded. The female voice they'd heard had been a vetala, attempting to lure them into the house so she and her family could feed on them.

Cas and the Winchesters sprang into action, and the four of them made quick work of the creatures. By the time Agnes staggered into the room, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and holding her silver knife aloft, it was all over.

She looked at the bodies, then up at the quartet. "Holy Moly," the Detective said. "Are you sure you're the good guys?" She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that. I've never travelled like that before. I have to take two Dramamines just to get on a small plane to Vegas."

"That's OK; it took us all a while to get used to it, too," Sam said affably.

Agnes was looking down at the corpses again. "Funny, they just look like humans wearing snake-head masks," she remarked. "It's a good thing I trust you guys." She sighed. "I guess we're going to have to keep the strangling files open, though. There's no way we'd be able to explain this to the Chief."

"We have to torch the house," Dean told her. "So, officially, this never happened. But, you shouldn't have any more dead people, now. Well, at least not vetala victims, anyway."

Agnes nodded. "The people of L.A. and the County of Los Angeles thank you." She put her hand on Sam's arm. "And, I thank you. Do whatever you need to do. I'll give you the location of the grave you're looking for. But if it's all the same to you, I'm going to bow out of that little excursion. I've already broken my Academy oath at least a half-dozen times today."

The men nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem," Dean said, nodding. "This ain't our first rodeo."

"Don't tell me anymore," Agnes said wearily. "I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be hearing any of it."

Sam grinned. "I'm pretty sure you're right."

Agnes jotted down the location of the John Doe grave on the back of one of her business cards, giving it to Gail. "Maybe memorize that, and then toss it in the fire before you leave," she said dryly. "I like you guys, but I still have to work in this town."

"Can I give you a lift back to your car?" Cas offered.

Aggie heaved a heavy sigh. "Sure, why not? I've been meaning to lose ten pounds, anyway." She looked at Gail again. "If your DNA guy says that's your Uncle, you and Cas can call me and let me know, and I'll burn the file. Nobody'll notice. You can go ahead and take the bones now. And I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry for all of the people who have lost their loved ones. As a Homicide Detective, I have to try to stay detached, to a certain extent. I couldn't do my job properly if I let myself feel too much. It seems like you guys are the same way. You have to compartmentalize your feelings. But every once in a while, I just lock myself in my place, and have a good cry."

"So do I," Cas said soberly, and Agnes looked at him curiously.

"We drink, because we're men," Dean said good-naturedly, rolling his eyes. "You should try that sometime, Cas. Be more like your wife."

"Are you calling me a man?" Gail asked Dean, pretending to be angry.

"Nooooo," Dean said emphatically, but he was nodding his head.

"I think I'd better help save one more life tonight," Cas quipped, taking Gail's hand. "I'll escort the ladies to where Detective Bidwell's car is parked, and then Gail and I will meet you both at the cemetery gates." He extended his hand to Aggie, and after a moment's hesitation, she took it. The three of them disappeared, as Dean smirked after them.

Their grisly errand had been completed, and Sam's contact had confirmed that the remains were indeed Oliver's, when he had compared the bones to the sample of Andy's they'd had locked in the bunker's safe. As soon as they received the verification, they locked Oliver's bones up in the safe too, in a black burlap bag. Gail had made the point that they should probably go back and see Andy before they did anything else, to make sure they knew what they were doing. Once they'd burned Oliver's remains, there could be no going back. The brothers had agreed, and Sam had made an appointment through Dr. Carstairs for them to see Andy the following day.

"Good," Cas said, nodding his approval. "Gail and I will go to our house now, and we will see you tomorrow."

The Angels winked themselves home, but there was a surprise waiting for them there. A tall, dark-haired man with a pleasant smile was standing on the front walk. The instant he saw Gail, he moved forward, extending his hand to her. Cas stiffened, going into protective mode instantly. But the man stopped moving as soon as he'd noticed Cas's body language, saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle anyone. I'm just here to meet Gail. She's my sister."

VIGNETTE - SEVEN DEGREES OF CRAZY

JD smiled ingratiatingly. "Well, OK, I guess she's technically my half-sister." He looked at Gail. "Hi. I'm Jack. Jack LaDoucette. But, you can call me JD, if you want." He extended his hand again, and Gail shook it. Then, JD shook with Cas. "I'm so glad to meet the both of you. Don't worry; I'm nothing like Vincent. What an evil bastard HE is, right?"

He was checking out their faces, to see if they were buying it. JD had never met Vincent in his life, but he knew all about him. His father had been talking in his head for a year or so, now. At first, it had freaked him out, but Jack was used to it by now. Sometimes, he even welcomed it. It was funny, really; Vincent had been exhorting his son to rebel, and create havoc. Then, when he discovered that he could talk back, JD had told his father his secret, and his dad said he'd never been prouder of any of his children. But, what the hell kind of parent said that to a child of theirs who had just confessed to being a cross-country serial killer?

Yeah, Vincent was an evil bastard, all right. Diabolical. But, Jack wasn't. Really he wasn't. In JD's mind, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. He knew that people viewed him as weird, or different, or even creepy. Whenever he'd met a girl who he thought might love him, he tried to act like a person that she might like. He'd even made up a fake name. "Jack LaDoucette" sounded classy; like a fine, upstanding individual. JD could no longer remember what his real name had been, anyway.

All he wanted was someone to love, and who would love him. He'd traipsed all over the country looking for love. But every time JD thought he'd found it, things would go all weird, and then the girl would end up dead. After who knew how many incidents, Jack knew he would have to figure something else out. They said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, or something like that. Well, JD wasn't crazy. He wasn't. Jack LaDoucette was a great guy. He just wanted love, that was all. To feel like he belonged. Didn't everyone?

Still, he'd realized that what he'd been trying to do wasn't working, so when he complained to Vincent about it, his father had offered him a solution. And no, it hadn't been to come to where Vincent was, and join his dear old dad. Which was maybe just as well. Two Alpha males like them in the same place was maybe not such a great idea. But Vincent had told JD about his sister Gail. OK; half-sister. Big deal. Semantics. If Jack or whatever his son's name was wanted to belong to a family, he should track down Gail.

JD had jumped at the opportunity. A sister? A family? That could be it, right there. The solution to all of his problems. So he'd made his way to Kansas and waited in front of her house, because Vincent had advised that she and her husband would be coming. And now here they were, in the flesh.

"Come in," Gail said to Jack now, as Cas unlocked the front door. They had no idea how much he might or might not know about their status, so they figured it was best not to do any Angel stuff until they found out.

"I'd love to offer you something to drink, but we don't have much," Gail said to JD as he followed them down the front hallway. "We just got back from a trip."

"That's OK," he said good-naturedly. "I'm good. I just wanted to have a bit of a visit with you. Get to know you better. Do you have a couple of minutes?"

Gail looked at Cas. "Actually, I guess we do," she said. "We weren't doing anything till tomorrow, right?"

"That's right," Cas confirmed. He looked at JD. "What would you like to drink? I can go out to the store. Did you want anything to eat?"

"Thanks, Cas, that's very nice of you," Jack replied. "I like beer, and I don't want to put you out, but I am kind of hungry. If you could maybe pick up some fast food or something on your way back, that'd be great."

Gail nudged her husband. "Why don't you go over to Sam and Dean's place? I know they'll have beer, and they'll probably have some snacks."

"Sam and Dean?" JD asked innocently. "Who are they?" As if Vincent hadn't already told him.

"They're very good friends of ours," Gail said. "Pretty much like brothers, actually."

JD smiled widely. "That's terrific! I was adopted, but I went into the foster care system very young. Do you have a big family?"

Gail's lips twitched. "Pretty big, yes."

Cas was regarding their visitor carefully. On the one hand, he was a stranger to them, and he was Vincent's son. Those were good enough reasons to be leery of him. Also, he hadn't said how he had known where Gail lived. Perhaps he was one of Vincent's psychic children. But on the other hand, he seemed a little too pathetic, eager to connect with family. Perhaps Cas could give him the benefit of the doubt. Gail had a good point, though; if Cas were to pop over to the bunker and then pop right back, he could be back almost immediately.

"Gosh, I'd love to have a family," JD was saying now. "That must be wonderful."

Gail put her hand on Cas's arm, giving it a quick squeeze. "Sweetie, why don't you find out if Sam and Dean are doing anything? If not, maybe you want to bring them back here with you for a while. They can help you carry more, too. JD and I will have a seat in the living room and get acquainted, in the meantime."

She sat down with her half-brother as Cas left the house by way of the front door. Gail could tell he was a little skittish about leaving her alone with JD, but she didn't think it was that big of a deal. She could defend herself if she needed to, but Jack didn't strike her as dangerous, just lonely. They could sit and talk about whatever he wanted to, until Cas got back. Maybe Gail could tell JD she'd been adopted, too.

As she had expected, Cas came back in a matter of minutes, and he had Dean with him. The men were carrying a case of beer, and a bag from a local fast-food place.

Dean handed the case of beer to Cas. "Here, put this in the fridge," he instructed his friend after extracting two bottles from the box. Cas dutifully left the room to go to the kitchen as Dean stepped forward with the beer bottles in one hand, and the brown bag in the other. "Dean Winchester," he said to JD. "Cas said you were hungry, and thirsty. I told him you're my kind of guy." He handed Jack the bag, and one of the beer bottles. "Here you go. Burger and fries, from a good local place."

"Thanks," JD said, relieving Dean of his burdens. Dean extended his hand for a shake, but JD was already sitting back down on the couch, putting the bag on the coffee table and twisting the cap off the beer. Dean stood there for a moment, and then he withdrew his hand. He looked at Gail, and she gave him a half-shrug. Maybe JD was just that hungry and thirsty, or maybe he wasn't a hand-shaker.

"Where's Sam?" Gail asked Dean, as he sat down in a chair next to her end of the couch.

"After he called Quinn, they decided to have dinner," Dean replied, opening his beer.

"Does that mean they're getting back together?" Cas said, coming back into the living room.

"I don't know, Buddy. I guess we'll have to wait and see," Dean said.

Cas stopped short. JD was sitting beside Gail on the couch, wolfing down his food. Therefore, there wasn't really enough room for Cas to sit comfortably on either side of Gail. Dean rolled his eyes, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of the couch, where JD was sitting. Cas frowned, but he crossed over there now and sat down.

As soon as JD finished his food, which took only a matter of minutes, he looked up. "Thanks, Dale," he said.

"Dean," the elder Winchester corrected him. He motioned to his own mouth, with a couple of fingers. "You've got a little special sauce there, Jock."

"Jack," JD corrected him sharply, and Gail had to turn her face away from their new acquaintance, because her lips were twitching furiously now. Dean. What a child he could be, sometimes.

"Did you enjoy the food?" Cas asked their guest, somewhat unnecessarily.

"JD liked it very much," Jack confirmed, nodding.

Dean's forehead wrinkled. "Uh...that's you, isn't it?"

JD smiled. "Oh. Yeah. I just like to talk that way, sometimes."

"Oh. Oh-kay," Dean said hesitantly. "Like the big sports stars, I guess, right? Like Shaq, or A-Rod?"

Their guest shrugged. "Well, JD doesn't know who they are, but...sure. I guess."

Dean looked at Cas, and then at Gail. Neither one of the Angels knew what to say at this point. JD was certainly a bit eccentric, to say the least. Of course he was, Gail thought to herself. He was a member of her family, wasn't he?

Dean took a drink of his beer, and then he tried again. "So..., that Vincent. He's sure a crazy son of a bitch, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," JD said happily. "He's the crazy one. He is."

There was another silence, as the three of them tried to figure out how to interpret that statement, and the manner in which it was being said.

Damn it. JD knew he was screwing up. He could tell by the looks on their faces that he was freaking them out. Gail looked the most sympathetic, but the guys were perched on either side of her now like gargoyles on a building, and they were looking like they'd like to just take him outside and beat the snot out of him, and take him away from her...

JD took a deep breath, looking at Gail. He gave her his most charming smile. "I'm sorry," he said to her. "I'm not used to being around people. You've been so nice to me, welcoming me into your house, and giving me food, and something to drink..." He paused. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I'll try to be normal. I know I'm messing this up, Gail. I've just been so lonely. And Vincent was talking to me in my head, and he was scaring me. I was hoping you might understand."

"I DO understand," she said, with compassion. Gail was thinking about Ricky now, and some of the other adult children of Vincent's she had met in the compound. Most of them had been socially awkward, a little left of centre. Truth be known, Gail could be included in that category, as well, couldn't she? If she didn't have such a loving, nurturing husband and a close core of family and friends, who knew what she would be like now, or how she might come across to others?

"Don't worry about it," she said to JD, patting his arm. "Of course we can talk about that, Jack. We can talk about anything you want. We're all family here. Why don't I get you another beer, and we can talk some more?"

"Really?" he said, his face brightening. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do," Gail said. She picked up his empty beer bottle, and started off for the kitchen. As she passed by Dean, he extended his empty beer bottle to her wordlessly.

She opened her mouth, prepared to unleash some choice words, but then she thought better of it. They were just making JD's acquaintance now, and he seemed a little skittish already. Better make nice with each other, at least for the time being. So she just took Dean's beer bottle, fixing him with a momentary glare. "You see how he treats me, Jack?" Gail quipped lightly. "Oh, well, that's our family for you."

"Gail?" Jack said, and she looked at him inquiringly. "Thanks," he continued. "Oh, and I prefer JD."

"Well, then, JD it is," she said mildly. Then she smiled at him, and left the room.

JD glared at Dean angrily, startling the elder Winchester. What the hell? What was this guy's problem? But then, Cas said something to JD that Dean didn't catch, and the guy smiled, so maybe Dean was just imagining what he'd seen.

JD chatted to Gail's husband in as pleasant a tone as he could manage, considering the circumstances. But the blood was pounding in his ears now. Gail needed his help. She was being so sweet to JD, but JD could see now how the men in her life treated her. Just like JD had been treated by his foster family when he'd been growing up. Do this. Fetch that. Like he was nothing. Was it any wonder he wanted to be loved so badly? He never had been, had he? But, JD was sure Gail loved him now. She was even getting him a beer. He was going to treat her better than any of the men in her life, and she was going to love him, and look up to him. Now, JD knew why Vincent had told him to come here. He was finally home.

After a few more beers and some pleasant conversation, Gail gently told JD that they had an early morning appointment the next day. He took the hint and excused himself to leave, asking if he could come back and see her again, soon.

Once he was gone, Dean let out a long breath. "Finally!" he exclaimed. "It was getting harder and harder to keep my mouth shut."

"Why, Dean? What are you talking about?" Gail asked him, although she was pretty sure she knew.

"What do you think?" he asked her sarcastically. "Jack 'call me JD' La-Douchette. The guy's nuts. Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. I'd say he's a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but I don't think that's strong enough. We're gonna have to invent an eighth degree of crazy for him, I think."

"What the hell are you babbling about?" she said irritably.

"There are seven degrees of crazy," Dean explained to her. "You know, like 50 shades of grey? Seven degrees of crazy, Gail. Think of it like how they rate chicken wings in restaurants: plain, mild, medium, hot, spicy hot, suicide, and Call the Freakin' Authorities." He counted them off on his fingers, showing them to her when he was done. "See? Seven," he repeated. Then he raised his middle finger. "And now, there's eight."

"Don't you raise that finger to me," Gail quipped. She was bemused. His analogy was actually pretty funny, but: "I don't think he's that crazy, Dean. I think he's just a little lost."

Dean mumbled something about JD's ass and a flashlight, but Gail was no longer listening to him. Instead, she was looking at Cas. "What do YOU think, sweetie?"

Dean threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine. Take his side over mine."

"I haven't said anything yet, Dean," Cas remarked, quite reasonably. He thought for a moment. He'd been trying valiantly to give JD the benefit of the doubt. Yes, the man was peculiar; there was no denying that. But was he insane, as Dean was suggesting? Cas looked at his wife. She was giving him the doe eyes now, and Cas realized that it was probably very important to Gail not to have yet one more crazy family member in her life. Except for Rob and Eric, who were fine young men now, each and every family member of Gail's that they had come into contact with was at best irascible, or at worst, an evil, ancient entity who wished to bring about the destruction of the world. Oliver, Andy, Abigail, Vincent...and JD? Perhaps Dean's analogy of varying degrees of insanity was apt. But, which degree was JD, then?

Cas sighed. "I'm sorry, my love, but I have to be honest with you," he told Gail. "I must agree with Dean."

Dean blinked in surprise. "Oh. Well, good. Fine. Take his side, then," he advised Gail.

She rolled her eyes. "You could be a little more tolerant, Dean. We all have each other. He's been alone for years. He's just socially awkward, that's all. He just needs to feel like people care."

"Well, I DON'T care," Dean said bluntly. "Do what you want. But watch that guy, Cas. Watch him carefully. Mark my words. Guy's a psycho."

"'Mark my words'?" Gail said sarcastically. "Give me a break. You've been watching too many bad movies." Then she looked at Cas again. "You heard him, sweetie. He's been wandering around all over the U.S., looking for family." She looked at him sadly. "He was probably trying to find some of the people that our dear old daddy blew up. I didn't have the heart to tell him about that. But he just needs a little compassion. We're still Angels, aren't we? We should be able to give him some of that, at least."

"I give up," Dean said wearily. "Do what you want. You're gonna, anyway."

"Now, look how much energy you could have saved if you had just acknowledged that to begin with," she quipped, poking his stomach playfully. "Cas'll take you home now. We have to go see a REALLY crazy guy tomorrow morning, and then go see his dead brother, at Quinn's. Hopefully by the end of the day, we'll be able to track down the worst chicken wing of them all. Funny analogy, by the way. So, you see, I WAS listening." She got up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Now, get lost. We'll see you tomorrow."

Dean gave her a brief squeeze, and then he allowed Cas to take his arm for teleportation. Now that Cas was no longer God, he needed contact to teleport a human again.

Once they were at the bunker, Cas took his hand off Dean's arm, but Dean put his hand back on his friend's arm, immediately. "Watch that guy, Cas," Dean said again. "Watch him."

Cas nodded solemnly. Dean's concern was contagious. "I will, Dean," he replied. "We'll see you and Sam in the morning." Then he winked out.

The next morning, the four of them were in the visitors' room at the mental institution, talking to Andy. Once again, Cas made sure that Gail was sitting at the opposite end of the table from Andy, and he, Sam and Dean sat close beside her. The men had not forgotten what had happened at the end of their last visit.

Nor had Gail. She regarded Andy coolly. "We found what you sent us to your house for. Eventually," she said to her uncle in a dry tone. "You might want to hire a cleaning company, though. In fact, you might want to hire several."

He either ignored her tone, or he was oblivious to it. "You found it? Where was it?" he asked curiously.

Sam told him, and Andy sat back in his chair. "Huh," he remarked. "Isn't that funny. I don't remember putting it there. Anyway, what about Oliver?"

"Got his bones, too," Dean said shortly. Between this guy, and JD last night, Dean had had more than his share of crazy guys for a while. Dean had told Sam over coffee this morning about meeting JD at Cas and Gail's place, and Sam had been intrigued, and more than a little alarmed. Dean had made Gail's half-brother sound like a dangerous psychopath. But JD couldn't be that bad, because Cas had let him leave the house alive. If he'd posed any sort of threat to Gail, as Dean was suggesting, there was no way Cas would have just let that slide. Dean must be exaggerating, Sam thought. His brother engaged in some pretty extensive hyperbole, sometimes. So Sam had decided to reserve judgement until he met JD, himself.

"Oh, that's great," Andy was saying now. "How IS Oliver?"

Dean gave him an incredulous look. "Well, other than the fact that he's deader than dogshit, he's fine," he said sarcastically.

"All right, Dean, that's enough," Cas said, putting his hand on his friend's arm. He looked at Andy. "He told us he's been trying to send you positive messages, to counterbalance those you may be receiving from Vincent."

Andy's eyes misted with tears. "When you talk to him, please tell him that I appreciate that," he said quietly. "You know, if Vincent hadn't been our brother, things would have turned out very differently for us, I think."

Now, Gail felt sorry for him. Of course, she'd felt sorry for him the last time they'd been here too, causing her to drop her guard. This time, she stayed where she was, but she did say, "We'll tell him what you said. Is there anything else you want us to say to him?"

"Tell him I'm sorry," Andy said sadly. "That's all. He'll understand."

As Gail nodded, Sam said, "Now that we have the bones, we need to burn Oliver's remains, to let him rest in peace," he told Andy, as gently as he could. "But first, we needed to find out from you what we need for the location spell."

But apparently, Sam hadn't had to worry about being sensitive when it came to the subject of Andy's brother's remains. Gail's uncle said matter-of-factly, "Just remove a couple of his bones, and then cremate the rest of him. Then grind up the bone I gave you and throw it in with his ashes. Put them, and seven drops of Gail's blood, in an urn or some other kind of metal receptacle, and then, you'll be ready for the chest."

"Ready for the what, now?" Dean said, his forehead wrinkling.

"You have to get the chest, from the Maritime Museum. The urn has to go in it," Andy said calmly, as if they were merely continuing a conversation they'd already been having.

Gail took a deep breath. "What chest?" she said, puzzled. "You didn't say anything about a chest, before."

"Oh. Didn't I?" Andy said blithely.

"No. You didn't," she said irritably. "WHAT chest?"

"And which Maritime Museum?" Sam chipped in.

"The one in Beaufort, North Carolina," Andy said, as if it should be obvious.

Dean was just about ready to get up, go around the table, grab Uncle Andy, and punch him right in the face. But Sam's expression stopped him, because Sam was slowly grinning now. "Are you talking about the Queen Anne's Revenge?"

"Yes!" Andy said, with a big smile. "You know it, then?"

"I know about the exhibit, yeah," Sam replied cautiously.

"You wanna clue us in, here?" Dean said, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"One of the exhibits at the Maritime Museum in Beaufort, North Carolina is the pirate ship called the Queen Anne's Revenge," Sam told him, still smiling. "Blackbeard's flagship."

Dean's jaw dropped. "No...freakin'...way," he said, dazed. "Blackbeard? Blackbeard, the pirate?"

"No, Dean. Blackbeard, the Kindergarten teacher," Gail said sarcastically. Dean seemed to be getting over his annoyance now with the mention of pirates, but hers was growing. She looked at Andy, scowling. "What the hell does this have to do with anything? Are you just screwing with us, now?"

"You have to put the urn with the ashes of the bones and the blood in the chest," Andy insisted. Gail squeezed her hands together, trying to breathe. What was this, a practical joke? Were they on one of those hidden camera shows, now? Next, he was going to be talking about the cat that ate the rat that lived in the house that Jack built.

She looked helplessly at Cas, but unbelievably, Cas seemed to understand. "So, we have to take the chest from the museum, and put the urn in it," Cas said calmly. "What do we do, then?"

Andy smiled, pleased that one of them seemed to be getting it. "Then, you have to throw the chest into the waters by the black sands, and follow it. The chest will lead you to Vincent."

"OK, time out," Dean said. He got up from his chair and walked over to the door that led to the hallway. He cracked it open, getting the orderly's attention. "We need a minute, here," Dean said to the giant. "Can we go somewhere, and then come back?"

"You're not allowed to walk around," the orderly said sternly. "You know that."

Andy stood suddenly, and Cas and Sam tensed. But Gail's uncle merely said, "I have to go to the bathroom, anyway. If you want to talk alone, you can just stay here." He began to come around the table and Cas stood immediately, standing in front of Gail. Andy paused for a moment, smiling faintly. But then he continued on to the door, walking past Dean into the hallway.

Dean closed the door behind Andy, letting out a breath. Then he wheeled around to face the others. "Man, Gail," he said, shaking his head slowly. "You know I love you, but, your family? Boogedy, boogedy. Number eights on the scale. Every last damn one of them."

Gail gave him a half-shrug. She really couldn't argue the point, especially not right now. "So, we're supposed to go to this museum and steal a pirate chest, put the ashes in it, and put it in some water somewhere, and it'll just lead us to Vincent?" she said incredulously.

"Either that, or it'll grow a Chia Vincent," Sam quipped. She gave him a baleful look. That was possibly funny; she just wasn't in the mood, right now.

Cas was looking thoughtful. "I know that, on its surface, the notion seems insane. But, I think it could actually make sense. Blackbeard was an ancient, evil entity, who terrorized the seas in the Caribbean for several years in the early 1700s. If this chest belonged to him, and if he was in fact a Demon, as historical accounts seem to suggest, the black magic associated with this chest may assist us in the location of Vincent, another ancient, evil entity."

Dean and Gail were still looking doubtful, but Sam pursed his lips now, considering what Cas was saying. "You know, if we follow that logic, this could be a legitimate tracking spell. Maybe, because Vincent's brothers' bones will be in the chest, plus Gail's blood, their shared DNA triggers the spell."

All four of them looked at each other. It was still weird, but with that logic applied, it was the kind of weird that made sense in their world. Andy returned a minute or so later, and he opened the door and walked back to his chair as if he was a businessman, chairing a meeting. Dean frowned slightly. Boy, for a guy who was as dangerously psycho as Andy was supposed to be, they sure seemed to give him the run of the place. Of course, Andy was an older guy, and the orderly who was stationed outside was as big as a mountain. Plus, given the way that Cas looked at Uncle Andy every time he came near Gail, he'd be crazy to try anything. Pun definitely intended.

"Where are the black sands?" Cas asked Andy, as soon as Gail's uncle sat back down.

Andy cocked an eyebrow. "See Oliver. Burn the bones. Get the urn, and the chest. Then come back, and I'll tell you."

"Why would you not just tell us now?" Cas said, his jaw clenching.

"I get lonely," Andy replied, somewhat petulantly. "Your visits are the only thing I have to look forward to." Then he folded his arms, and the silence was deafening.

Cas let out a breath, looking at the others. "Very well. We will do as you have instructed, and then, we will return." He stood, and Andy leaned forward suddenly. "Cas?" Gail's uncle said. "Yes?" Cas responded.

Andy grinned. "I know you're not God, any more. I also know you didn't bring your blade, because none of you are allowed weapons in here. So you can look at me like I'm scum all you want, but if I really wanted to hurt Gail, there would be nothing that you or your friends could do to stop me."

"No?" Cas said conversationally. He leaned down, until his face was mere inches from Andy's. "I would invite you to try. I may not be God any more, or have my blade, but neither of those things would stop me, if I wanted to kill you. I could reach into your sternum right now and pluck out your heart. You may join your dead brother in that urn, if you wish."

Andy said nothing for a moment, and Cas straightened up, still staring him down. Then, incredibly, Andy smiled. "It was nice to see all of you again," he told them.

Once they were in the Impala, Dean glanced at Gail in the back seat. "Eighth degree," he said shortly. "Maybe even ninth."

And Gail had nothing to say in response, because once again, Dean was right.


	4. Dead Man's Chest

Chapter 4 - Dead Man's Chest

The next stop after leaving the mental institution was Quinn's. Now that they had their instructions, it was finally time to send Oliver on his merry way to the Afterlife.

Quinn was smiling widely when the four of them got there. She couldn't wait to get rid of her unwanted housemate. Plus, she and Sam had had a really nice time last night. This was a red-letter day for her.

The conversation with Oliver was short, odd, and a little bittersweet, much like all of their dealings with him had been. Gail relayed Andy's message to his brother, without any editorial comment. She wasn't too impressed with Oliver's "little" brother at the moment. Every time she saw Andy, their visit had ended with him threatening to kill her. What the hell? What had she ever done to him? She kept trying to remind herself that the man had been in the mental institution for years and years for a reason, but it was starting to feel awfully personal. Still, none of that was Oliver's fault. The poor guy was simply trying to move on. So she conveyed the message, and the Winchesters told Oliver that they would cremate his remains as soon as they got back to the bunker.

Was there anything that Oliver wanted to say, before they did that? Cas asked him. No, Oliver had said. Nothing. Nothing at all. He was more than ready to move on. And then, he vanished.

They all looked at each other. That was it? After all the bitching, whining and moaning he had done? Wow. Dean rolled his eyes. Well, at least that was one member of Gail's nutty family that they wouldn't have to hear from, any more. And as a bonus, their eviction of Oliver from Quinn's house would go a long way towards getting Sammy back in Quinn's good graces.

Sam told Quinn he would call her as soon as he and Dean had burned Oliver's remains, and they all exchanged goodbyes. As they were driving back to the bunker, Frank called Cas's cell phone, looking for Gail.

"Hey, kiddo," he said in her ear as Cas handed her the phone. "Whatcha been doing?"

Her lips twitched. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Then, she thought about that. "Actually, you're one of the few that might," she added. "What's up?"

"I need to talk to you," her brother said. "Do you have a minute?"

She glanced around the interior of the car at everyone. "We're kind of in the middle of something here, Frank. Can it wait?"

"It's important," he said vaguely. "How long's it gonna take for you to finish what you're in the middle of?"

Now Gail was starting to become a bit concerned. She could hear a certain quality in Frank's voice. It wasn't what he was saying that was putting her on alert, it was what he was not saying. "Let me call you back in a minute," she said, hanging up the phone.

Gail told the men about Frank's request, and Sam said, "Why don't you find out what Frank wants? Dean and I can take care of the cremation, and put the bones we need aside. We don't really need help for that stuff. We can drop you and Cas at Frank's, if you want."

She and her husband exchanged a smile. "Drop us off?" Gail teased Sam. "Aren't you cute."

Sam grinned. "You know what I mean."

But when Gail called Frank back, he told her that he wanted to come over to her and Cas's place, instead. He would drive over there.

"Then we might as well drop you guys off, 'cause it'll take him a few minutes to get there," Dean said, and Cas and Gail shrugged at each other. Oh, well. They were on Earth now, and Dean really liked to drive. Besides, this way, they could cuddle for longer. Cas put his arm around his wife and she laid her head on his chest, smiling.

They beat Frank to their house anyway, and Dean smirked when he let the Angels out of the car, making smartass remarks about Frank's driving. Cas asked the brothers to call once they were finished with the cremation, and then they would discuss what they were going to do next.

The Winchesters drove off, and Cas let himself and Gail into the house the human way. They were only inside for a minute or two when the knock came on the door. Gail smiled. "I guess he must have heard what Dean said about his driving. We could have just waited outside for him."

She opened the door, and Frank was standing there, but he had someone with him. He was holding JD by the arm. "I saw this guy sitting in a car, watching your house," Gail's brother said. "Do you know him?"

"It's OK, Frank, you can let go of him," Gail said, still smiling. "That's JD, my half-brother. JD, this is Frank. My brother. Wow, this is getting confusing. Boy, do I ever have a lot of brothers. Come in, you two. Actually, this works out nicely. I wanted the two of you to meet."

Frank let go of JD, but he was still looking at the man with suspicion. As they entered the house, Frank said, "So what were you doing, just sitting outside like that?"

"I was waiting for my sister to get here," JD mumbled.

Frank gave him a baleful look. "Well, why didn't you just call MY sister, then, like I did?"

JD shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Finally, he said, "Because I've been living out there, OK?"

"What do you mean?" Cas asked the man.

"I've been living in my car," JD said in a subdued tone. He looked at Cas and Gail. "I told you, I've fallen on some hard times. I don't have any money for a motel. I barely have enough money to eat."

Gail's heart sank. "So, do you mean to tell us that you were out there living in your car the whole time, from when we met you?" He nodded, and Gail looked at Cas. "Well, that's done," she said firmly. "You can move in here, until we get you sorted out. I'll send Cas out for some food."

Now it was Cas and Frank who looked at each other as JD's face lit up. "Really? You mean it?" he asked Gail, and she nodded. "Of course I do. You're my brother, aren't you? Well, no brother of mine is going to be hungry, and sleeping in a car. Not when we have a bunch of empty rooms here."

JD launched himself at her, pulling her to him for a hug. "Thank you," he said fervently. "You're a real Angel."

Gail grinned, patting him on the back. "About that..." she said, and JD pulled out of the embrace, looking at her inquiringly. "Let's just say we've got to talk," Gail added.

Cas was dismayed by Gail's offer to JD, but he was trying not to be. She was quite right; they had all of these extra rooms, and he could easily pop over to the store and get some food. This was Gail's brother. They couldn't let him sleep in a car. But Dean's initial reaction to JD and their friend's warning about the man was echoing in Cas's head now. Maybe Frank would be able to help him figure out if JD was unbalanced, or merely eccentric.

Frank was frowning again. When he'd told Gail he wanted to talk to her, he'd meant, he wanted to talk to her alone. He didn't mind if Cas sat in; in fact, his brother-in-law could be very helpful in this kind of situation. But he sure as hell wasn't about to bring up what he had to talk to them about with this stranger around. "Hey, JD, buddy, do you think you could make yourself scarce for a bit?" Frank said to the man. "I came over here to talk to Cas and Gail about something."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Cas said, "I'll tell you what." He took out his wallet. "Why don't you drive over to the grocery store?" he said to JD, handing him some money. "You can buy some food. Whatever you'd like to eat. That'll give us time to have our chat with Frank."

JD looked at the money, then at Cas. "Really? You're just giving me money?" JD said suspiciously. "Without expecting anything in return?"

"That's right," Cas said mildly. "Take it. And when you come back, we'll help you to move your belongings into one of the guest rooms." He glanced at Gail. "And then, we'll have that talk."

JD took the money and left the house without another word. Frank stared after him without comment for a moment. Then he turned to look at the Angels. "I need your help," he told them. "It's about Jody."

Gail's forehead wrinkled. "Jody? What about Jody?"

"There's something going on with her, something weird," Frank replied.

"Like what? What do you mean?" his sister said impatiently.

"I don't know," Frank said soberly. "Just...something. She gets these headaches sometimes, and when I offer to get her some pills, or take care of Angela so she can sleep in, she just snaps at me. I caught her puking a couple of times, too. So I joked about her maybe being pregnant again, but she wasn't too freaking amused."

Cas and Gail exchanged glances. "Do you think she IS pregnant again, Frank?" Cas asked his brother-in-law.

"I don't know," Frank said, doubtfully. "If she was, why wouldn't she just tell me?"

Gail was thoughtful. "Maybe she's worried," she mused. "She's an older woman, right? Isn't it risky for older women to have kids?"

Frank considered that. "I don't know. Maybe you guys are right, but the whole thing just feels a little fishy to me."

"Why did you want to talk to US about it?" Gail said, still puzzled. "Why wouldn't you just talk to HER?"

"I tried," Frank said quietly. "But we had a kind of a fight about it. It was a weird fight, though. I asked her what was going on, and she said, nothing; why would I ask? So, I reminded her that when she went for her mammograms for that second time, she didn't even tell me about it. And you know what she said to me then?"

"No, Frank, what did she say to you then?" Cas inquired, curious.

"She said, and I quote: 'What mammograms?' She said she didn't know what I was talking about. That she'd never been for mammograms in her life," Frank said, tight-lipped. "What do you think of THAT?"

"OK, now, THAT'S weird," Gail said, mystified. "Why would she say something like that?"

"My point, exactly," Frank said, nodding. "So that's why I'm here. I know something's going on, and I want you guys to help me figure out what it is."

"What can WE do?" Gail asked her brother.

"You can search minds, can't you?" Frank said bluntly.

Cas and Gail looked at each other, and then back at Frank. "I know, I know," he said, gritting his teeth. "It's immoral. It's unethical. It's an invasion of privacy. And I'm right there on board with all of that. Ordinarily. But, I'm really concerned here, you guys. I don't know what else to do."

Cas sighed. Then he said, "All right, I'll do it. That way, if she becomes suspicious, it'll be me she's angry at, not Gail. I should be able to do it, and not be detected. If worse comes to worst, I suppose I could just modify her memory, if I need to. But that'll be a last resort, only. And, the only reason I'm agreeing to do it is because of your concern for your wife. Is that understood, Frank?"

"Yeah. Perfectly," Frank assured him. Then, he smiled. "So, JD, huh? What's his deal?"

Gail shrugged. "He's just a little lost, I think," she told her brother. "Another one of Vincent's messed-up kids. I hope we can help him. I feel like I let so many of those other ones down, in that compound. I feel like I should have done something more to try and save them."

Cas took her hand. "We all have regrets about that, Gail. I was God, yet I was unable to save any of those people. When Eric said what he said to me at your house, Frank, I couldn't be angry with him, because he was absolutely right. What good WAS I to anyone, then? I think that was the beginning of the end for me, as far as my desire to serve as God went." He gave Gail's hand a squeeze. "But now, I understand why you want to help JD so badly. I will help you try, my love."

"Thanks, Cas," she said, smiling.

Frank said nothing, but he actually knew a little more than he was letting on. Dean had called Frank right after meeting JD, because the guy had disturbed him so much. Therefore, Frank actually already knew about JD's story, or at least, the one he was peddling, anyway. He'd sure been able to get himself a free stay at Cas and Gail's place pretty quick, hadn't he? Maybe Frank and Dean just had suspicious minds from dealing with so many scumbags over the years, but that sob story about wandering all over the States looking for family just seemed way too convenient. Frank knew his sister very well. He knew that the recent losses of their Angel friends had been weighing heavily on her, but she'd pushed those feelings aside to take care of Cas. She'd also never gotten through her PTSD from the events at the compound, but yet, she had soldiered on. Now along comes a guy who represents a family member who needs her help, looking all needy and pathetic. But WAS he, really?

"How much do you know about this JD guy?" Frank asked the couple now.

Gail shrugged. "What's to know? Vincent's his father. That's reason enough to help the poor guy out."

"Are you sure he's been travelling around the country looking for family members?" Frank joked. "Maybe he's been travelling around the country killing people, and burying the bodies."

If JD had been there at that moment, he would have flipped out. Suddenly, Frank was the psychic in the family, not Rob. But Frank was just joking around, of course. Or at least, he thought he was.

"Oh, har, har," Gail said, making a face. "But, speaking of bodies, have we got a story for you." She went on to tell him about Blackbeard's chest, and Frank's jaw dropped in amazement.

"That's unbelievable!" he exclaimed. "Man, you guys have all the luck. Hunting monsters at Dracula's castle, stealing pirates' booty..."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Do you even HEAR yourself right now? Remember the context in which these things are taking place."

"Well, I still think it's cool," Frank said, pouting a bit. "It's kind of a shame you have to steal a cool exhibit like that, though. And, what's he want you to do? Throw it in some water, somewhere?"

Cas's lips twitched. "Yes, Frank. But, looking on the bright side, perhaps then, the chest can be salvaged again, and returned to the exhibit. That would have been how they got it in the first place."

Frank nodded. "Good point." He nudged Gail. "So, are you gonna buy Cas some guy-liner? Maybe Sam can get some dreadlock extensions. Just, for God's sake, if you see a cannon, don't let Dean fire it, no matter how much he begs you. Geez, I'm getting kind of jealous, now. If I wasn't so worried about Jody, I'd ask you if I could tag along."

"Speaking of which, I had an idea," Gail said. "If you're OK to wait until we get back from this chest thing, we'll throw a party here. We've been promising everybody one anyway, because we didn't have a wedding reception. We can also call it a Welcome party for JD, at the same time. Maybe we can all brainstorm ideas on how to help him. And it'll probably be a lot easier for Cas to 'accidentally' search Jody's mind with a whole bunch of people around, serving as a distraction. What do you think?"

Frank nodded again. "OK, kiddo. Give me a call when you and Johnny Depp here get back, then." He gave her a squeeze and a quick kiss on the forehead, just as JD walked in, carrying a few grocery bags. "JD got some great food," he commented.

Gail and Cas had heard JD talk that way before, but Frank hadn't, and the look on his face was comical. And of course, being Frank, he laughed. This guy had to be kidding with that.

But JD frowned. "Jack LaDoucette doesn't like it when people laugh at him," he told Gail's brother sharply. Then he looked at Gail. "Can you show me to the kitchen, please?" he asked her pleasantly. "I have some perishables in here."

"Sure," she replied. "Here, let me help you." She grabbed a bag from his arms and led him out of the room.

Frank stared after JD, astonished. "What the hell was that?" he asked Cas, who gave him a half-shrug. "I don't know, Frank," Gail's husband responded uneasily. "He's eccentric."

"Oh, so that's what we're calling it, is it?" Frank said sardonically. "If you ask me, it's THAT guy's mind you should be searching."

It was funny that Frank should say that, really, because the same thought had occurred to Cas, already. But as soon as he'd had the thought, he had pushed it aside. That was a slippery slope. As Cas had said to their human friends before, just because you COULD do something, that didn't mean that you SHOULD.

"OK, I'm outta here," Frank said, breaking Cas's reverie. "Give me a call when you guys get back." He clapped Cas on the shoulder. "And be careful with that guy, OK? I know you'll look out after our girl. You always do."

Cas smiled. "Thank you, Frank. I will. You know I will."

But when Frank left the house and Cas went into the kitchen, Gail and JD were putting the groceries away and chatting companionably, and Cas wondered if all of them were wrong to be suspicious of JD. He was an odd fellow, to be sure, but he hadn't actually done anything wrong, had he?

"Thank you for letting me stay at your house, Cas," JD said, smiling at Gail's husband. "Gail told me about the party you're planning, and I just wanted to express my gratitude for your hospitality, and for the warm welcome you've extended to me. Especially since you guys are technically supposed to be honeymooning, right now."

"Don't worry about that," Cas said calmly. "But in fact, we have to leave town again tomorrow. We won't be gone long, though, and when we get back, we'll have that party. In the meantime, make yourself at home, here."

Before JD had the chance to say anything, Cas's cell phone rang. It was Sam, telling him that Oliver's remains were gone. He and Dean had extracted a couple of bones from the skeleton before burning it, and they now had the ashes of both brothers' bones in a metal urn in the bunker's safe.

"So, are we all set to go?" Sam asked Cas. "If you guys want to come over here, I did some research on Blackbeard and the museum that might be helpful."

"Certainly, Sam," Cas told their friend. "We'll be right there." He hung up the phone, looking apologetically at Gail's half-brother. But, JD continued to smile. "It's OK, Cas," he said. "Gail told me you're both going to be in and out a fair amount, in the next few days. I hope you're OK with me staying here all by myself. I'll be very careful with everything, I promise. To tell you the truth, I'll probably just sleep a lot. I didn't get very much sleep in the car."

Cas nodded. "All right, then. We will see you later." He looked at Gail. "We'll drive over to Sam and Dean's," he told her. They bid JD goodbye, and left the house. Once they were out of sight, they winked out. They would have to have that chat with JD soon, but for now, they had a lesson on pirates to attend.

JD had brought his meager possessions in from the car, and he proceeded to make himself at home, as Cas had said. He had something to eat, pretending that Gail was sitting beside him at the table. She wouldn't be eating, of course; just watching him eat. It amused JD to see the pains they were going through not to let him know that they were Angels. Vincent had already told JD what they were. Oh, well. JD didn't care. He loved Gail, no matter what she was. And so far, Cas had been all right too, although JD knew he would have to be very, very careful around him.

But her other so-called brothers made JD very angry. How dare Frank tell him to just get lost like that? It was JD who was related to Gail by blood, not Dean, or even Frank. If one of those guys smarted off to him one more time, JD would have to do something about it. But it was him who was in Gail's house now, not them, and it was here that he intended to stay.

He walked down the hall to the guest room, looking at his duffel bag sitting on the bed. He would take his clothes and other things out of it later. But right now, he had the whole house to himself, and he wanted to indulge in the fantasy that his mind was creating. There were no other brothers, just him, and he and Gail lived here together. What would it be like, to be a respectable man? A homeowner? Maybe he could even have a job. JD hadn't been exaggerating by much about his financial circumstances. In order to keep body and soul together, he committed a little larceny here and there. And he would take whatever cash the girls he killed were carrying at the time, before he'd buried their purses with them. But he guessed that women didn't really carry much cash around with them these days. After all, you couldn't be too careful. JD giggled.

He moved down the hall to the master bedroom. Yes, this was where JD belonged. Master of the house. King of the castle. They had a beautiful big bed here, with an air conditioning unit in the window and a nice big-screen TV on the wall. He went to the closet and opened the sliding doors. Look at all the clothes. Cas's pants would probably be a little long on him, but JD could roll them up, if he had to. But, look at all the nice shirts. He took a blue one off its hanger, holding it up to himself. Nice. Good, quality material. Cas had good taste. Or, maybe it was Gail. JD wondered if she and Cas went shopping for his clothes together. They must. From what he had seen, and what Vincent had told him, those two did pretty much everything together. He put the shirt on, throwing his own ugly T-shirt on the floor. Now JD noticed how great the shirt smelled, too. Wow. No wonder Gail stuck to Cas like glue.

JD closed his eyes, pretending that the shirt was his, and he smelled like that. Then, he walked over to the bed. The remote was on the near side nightstand, and there was a stuffed penguin on the nightstand on the far side, listing a little to the left against the lamp there. That must be Gail's side. JD sat down on Cas's side of the bed, grabbing the remote. They would be gone for a while, he was sure. Anyway, he wasn't going to think about that right now. Right now, the master of the house wanted to watch some TV.

He clicked on the remote and settled back against the pillows.

"Blackbeard was an Englishman, whose real name was Edward Teach," Sam was telling them. The three others were seated in their usual spots, listening attentively. It had been decided that they were going to leave for North Carolina in the morning, so Dean had brought a bottle of rum out from the bar they still kept in one of the spare rooms, saying that if they were going to steal a pirate's chest, they should drink some "grog", to get them in the mood. Gail had told Dean what Frank had said about the guy-liner and the dreadlocks, and Dean had laughed and laughed. Then he'd said that they should all watch at least one Pirates of the Caribbean movie, before Cas and Gail went home that evening.

"Anyway, to continue," Sam went on, "Blackbeard was the most feared pirate of his day. Apparently, he was a skilled businessman, who knew how to intimidate his enemies, and used his fearsome reputation to its best advantage."

"Are we sure that wasn't Crowley?" Dean joked. Cas looked at him sharply. "Oh, sorry, Buddy," Dean apologized immediately. "I'm just so used to - "

Cas heaved a sigh. "That's all right, Dean," he said in a subdued tone. "It's not your fault. It's mine. I suppose I'll just have to 'man up', as I believe the expression goes. Face my mistakes. Pretending it didn't happen is not going to negate the fact that it did. We lost Riley and Efram and the others because I lost my temper and made a rash decision, putting everyone in danger." He looked sadly at Gail. "We lost some loved ones that day; of that, there is no doubt. But it could have been much, much worse. I could have lost you too, and if I had, I might just as well have been killed in Hell, myself. Let Bobby deal with Crowley, from now on. I am done with him."

There was silence for a moment, and then Gail took Cas's hand, giving it a squeeze. "So, tell us some more about Blackbeard," she said to Sam.

"The exhibit at the Maritime Museum features relics from his flagship, the Queen Anne's Revenge," Sam said. "I read about that, recently; that's why I knew what Andy was talking about. The QAR was his main ship, but in Blackbeard's heyday, he commanded 3 ships, and about 150 pirates."

"What did you say the name of the ship was?" Dean said, smirking now. "The Q A - arrrrr?"

Gail's lips twitched furiously. "Well, you have to admit, you walked right into that one," she said to Sam.

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, but he soldiered on: "Blackbeard was tall, and broad-shouldered. He wore his hair long, and he had a long, black beard, hence the imaginative nickname," Sam said with humour. "He used to put the lengths of a slow-burning fuse in his hair and his beard, believe it or not. They would sputter and smoke, adding to his fearsome look, and reputation. Those who saw him, and lived, said that Blackbeard looked demonic."

"You mean, like, a Demon demon?" Dean asked his brother.

"There were stories at the time that suggested he might be a supernatural being of some sort," Cas piped up. "But those might have been pure hyperbole. It is hard to say."

"Awesome," Dean breathed. "Oh, please let there be a pirate ghost at the museum. Please. I've been good."

"Dean, you're such a child," Gail said, but she was laughing. She couldn't help it. He just looked so excited.

"Hurry up, Sammy," Dean exhorted his brother. "We've gotta watch those Pirates of the Caribbean movies! Maybe there'll be some weird-ass squid-face ghost there, like in the movie. That'd be cool."

Sam was shaking his head now, but truthfully, he had kind of liked those movies, too. Still, he was determined to finish. He hadn't done all this research for nothing. "Blackbeard's M.O. was to use fear and intimidation to cause his enemies to surrender without a fight, if he could. That was shrewd, because the victimized ships could still be used, and valuable plunder wasn't lost or destroyed, that way. Like rum, for instance. Oh, what the hell. Give me a hit." Sam extended his glass to Dean. His brother grinned, pouring him a generous shot. "Blackbeard could also keep useful men for his employ, if he didn't have to kill them. Men like carpenters, or doctors."

Dean's face fell a bit. He'd had visions of a Captain Squid-Face shouting orders to a skeleton ghost crew to fire the cannons at the enemy ship. Then they would swing on ropes, boarding the burning ship, fighting the crewmen with cutlasses. But Sam was making it sound like Blackbeard just showed up, said "Boo!", and the enemies just surrendered. What fun was that?

Sam saw the look on his brother's face. "But there were exceptions, of course," Sam said, and Dean perked up a bit. "English merchant ships, or any ship from Boston, where they liked to hang pirates, were harshly dealt with. Check out his ship's flag." Sam turned the laptop around on the table so that the others could see. The flag had a white, horned skeleton, on a black background. It was holding a spear in one bony hand, and the spear was pointing to a heart that was dripping with blood. The other hand was holding a glass, lifting it in a toast to the Devil, Sam explained.

"Oh, that guy had to be a Demon," Dean remarked. "I mean, come on."

"You could be right," Sam said. "Or, if not a Demon, some other kind of otherworldly being. Says here that when he was finally apprehended, they wounded him with pistols, but he fought on, with just his cutlass in his hand. He'd been shot five times, and received at least 20 serious sword wounds. Does that sound like a human to any of you?"

"Rasputin, maybe," Gail quipped.

"Exactly," Sam said, nodding emphatically. "Anyway, eventually he did die, when they cut off his head."

"Sounds pretty monster-y to me," Dean said, matter-of-factly.

"The soldiers that killed him returned to Virginia, with Blackbeard's decapitated head impaled on the front of their ship," Sam summed up. "This museum we're going to has a lot of exhibits of Blackbeard's, and of other pirates', as well. And, because I know my brother's gonna ask: legends persist of Blackbeard's buried treasure, despite no solid evidence that it exists."

Dean's face fell. "OK, that does it. You're no longer Major Buzzkill, Cas. Sam is."

Sam shrugged, grinning. "Sorry, Dean, but I have to give you all the facts, don't I? The museum's about a 22-hour drive from here, by the way."

Cas opened his mouth, but Dean held up his hand. "No, Cas. No. We're NOT popping over there. If I can't have buried treasure, I'm at least gonna drive my Baby. We can put the chest in the trunk." Cas gave up. He recognized when Dean had his heart set on something.

"What happened to his head?" Gail asked suddenly.

Sam grinned again. "I was hoping someone would ask that. No one really knows. It sat on a pole on public display in the town for quite some time, as a deterrent to other pirates. But, there are legends that have sprung up about that, too. The most popular one is that his skull was made into a drinking cup, and it's supposedly used for black magic, or voodoo rituals."

"Yahtzee!" Dean said excitedly. "Now this whole thing's starting to make a little more sense."

Gail raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing. She guessed it kind of did, but this whole thing just smacked of a wild goose chase to her. But then again, what the hell did she know? "OK, well, if that's it, we'll head home now," Gail said to the brothers.

"But, we're going to watch Pirates of the Caribbean," Dean protested.

Gail tried not to roll her eyes. "Sorry, but this is JD's first night in the house, and I just think it would be rude to leave him all alone tonight, when we'll be leaving first thing in the morning," she said calmly. She rose from her chair, walking around to where Dean sat. "Don't pout," she said, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "I still love you the best. And Frank, and Sam, and Bobby, and Chuck - "

"OK, OK. Get lost, then," he said grumpily.

"I'm gonna have to meet this JD guy sometime soon," Sam commented. "He sounds like a character."

"It just so happens that we're going to have a party at our house when we get back," Cas told him. "You'll get your chance to meet him then."

"And I hope you'll keep an open mind," Gail added. "He's a little left-of-centre, but I don't think he's as bad as Dean claims he is. You can be the judge. See you guys bright and early tomorrow morning. I take it you've got the plan for the chest heist all worked out?" Then, she grinned. "That's hard to say, isn't it? 'Chest heist'. Try saying that five times fast."

"Plan? What plan?" Dean asked her. "We get there, you guys pop us in, and we carry the chest out. Bada-bing, bada-boom."

"Yeah? Won't there be motion sensor alarms, or security cameras?" she retorted.

"There will be, I'm sure," Sam said calmly. "Don't worry. We've got a lot of tricks up our sleeves for those kinds of things. I'll find out what I can from the museum's website tonight, and we'll go as paying customers to do recon when we get there, day after tomorrow. Like we did with the catacombs."

Cas nodded. "Very well. We'll see you in the morning, then." He took Gail's hand, and they winked out.

But when they got back to the house, all was quiet. As they moved down the hall, they saw that the door to the guest room was shut, and they could hear snoring noises from within, so they continued on down the hallway to their bedroom.

Gail shrugged. "Looks like we could have stayed for a movie or two, I guess," she said. "I suppose it's like he said; he's probably just tired from trying to sleep in his car. I don't imagine that would be very comfortable. I hope he's awake in the morning, when we're ready to leave. At least we can say goodbye, then, and tell him when we'll be back."

"You're very kind to worry about him so," Cas said absently. He was facing the open closet, unbuttoning his shirt. Funny; he thought he'd left it closed. Maybe Gail had opened it, for some reason.

"Since you're there anyway, can you grab the travel bag?" Gail asked him. She was getting a nightshirt out of the dresser. "Sine Sam said it takes nearly a day to get to this place, I assume we'll need at least one change of clothes."

"Certainly, my love," Cas said. He bent down to the floor of the closet where they kept the travel bag, and then he froze. What was his blue shirt doing down there? He picked it up, and his forehead wrinkled. That was strange. It must have just fallen off the hanger. But it looked a little crumpled, too. Oh, well. He hung it back up, and got the travel bag out.

Once they were undressed, Cas sat up in bed with the remote as Gail got into prime cuddling position. She had automatically flipped on the air conditioner as soon as they'd come into the room, so it was getting cool now. Cas was indifferent to the temperature, but he knew that Gail preferred it cool. And that was just fine with him, because ultimately, he reaped the benefit of being able to cuddle her close, when she got chilly.

They watched TV companionably for a while, and then Gail said, "So, what do you think is going on with Jody? Why do you think she's being so secretive?"

Cas was thoughtful. "I don't know, my darling. There can be many reasons why one spouse is secretive towards the other. I think we can rule out the obvious one, though."

"The obvious one?" Gail echoed.

"Yes. Many spouses are secretive because they are having an affair," Cas said matter-of-factly. "But that does not appear to be the case, here."

Gail was startled. She didn't think for one second that Jody was having an affair. What Frank was describing sounded more like a personal issue of some sort. Maybe Jody was going through menopause. Yeah. That could be it. Did a woman vomit when she was going through menopause? Or, "the change", as Gail had read that some people called it. She'd always thought that was kind of dumb. Just what exactly were you supposed to change INTO? A lamp? A bunny rabbit?

Now she felt better. That was probably it. "Would you ever cheat on me?" Gail asked her husband coyly. She knew the answer, of course. She was just looking for words of love and reassurance. But she hadn't anticipated the reaction she got.

"How could you ever think that I - " Cas sputtered. "Please turn around. Turn around and face me, right now."

She'd been in prime cuddling position, so Gail flipped around to look at him.

"I'm not sure if I should be more angry or hurt by that," Cas said to her, frowning. "I realize that it was just an offhand remark from your point of view, but please, do not ask me that again. It insults my integrity, among other things. As if I would ever make a mockery of our commitment that way. Not to mention betraying you. I could not consider it, not even for a second. I love you far too much to ever - " Cas broke off the sentence, because to him, it didn't deserve to be finished.

Gail touched his face with both hands. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said sincerely, because she could see how much what she'd said bothered him. "I didn't mean anything by it. I guess I was just fishing for compliments."

"Then I will compliment you more often," he said promptly, "but please, do not say anything like that to me again. All right?"

"Okay, Cas. OK. I'm sorry," she said again. She kissed him lightly on the lips. "Am I forgiven?"

He relaxed, taking her in his arms. "Of course you are. Maybe I've been lax in not saying enough loving things to you. I could fix that right now, if you like," he said softly.

"Or you could just kiss me, instead," Gail said, smiling. "Maybe we'll just do that, and if the compliments happen, they happen."

Cas smiled back at her. Now she was being cute, and his hands suddenly seemed very interested in touching her underneath her nightshirt. He breath caught when his fingers brushed one of her favourite areas. His touch was light at first, but when she leaned forward and licked his lips quickly with her tongue, Cas mad a low sound in his throat. He grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. "Why would I ever even look at another woman, when I have perfection right here?" he said, pulling her nightshirt off over her head. He started to caress her, going back to the light touch for the moment. He knelt over her, touching as much of her skin as he was able, and then he bent down, trailing his tongue along the areas he had just touched. He lingered in the softer places, knowing that those were her favourites. They were his, too.

She was loving what he was doing, but the slow teasing was becoming agonizing. "Cas, please," she said to him, and he knew what she meant. So he came back up to lay beside her, taking her hand and putting it on himself. She wrapped her fingers around him, lightly stroking him as he parted her legs with his hand. He kissed her on the mouth, using his tongue, and then the two of them started to stroke each other more ardently.

Gail suddenly remembered their houseguest. She had never been able to be quiet when she and Cas were making love. It was as if her body felt such joy that she had to shout out to the world about it. Would JD hear her, or was he too far down the hall and sleeping too soundly for her to worry about it?

But they were past the point of no return now, and besides, if her half-brother was going to stay here with them for a while, Gail would just have to get over it. There was no way that she and Cas were going to be able to abstain for long. They'd just spent six months apart.

Especially not if Cas was going to touch her like he was doing now. Plus, he was moving underneath her hand, making some sounds of his own now. His head tilted back and his eyes were half-closed, and he was smiling. She kissed his neck, and the stubble scratched her lips. He'd just shaved this morning, too. Impulsively, she licked his chin and then closed her hand more firmly around him, and he moaned her name. Then he started to move his hand faster, and a minute later, they were both crying out. So much for her resolve to remain quiet.

JD was sleeping peacefully, so she needn't have worried. He was having a dream in which he was coming home from a hard days' work. He went to put his key in the door, but Gail flung it open, telling JD how happy she was that he was home. She took his coat and his briefcase, telling him that dinner would be ready soon. But first, she wanted to hear all about his day. And there wouldn't be anybody to interrupt them, because all the other men in her life had been dead and gone for a while now. At first she'd been upset that JD had killed them all, but now she understood, and she was grateful to him. Now, she could focus on him, and him alone.

JD smiled as he slept on. But, there were no more dreams. He didn't need any others. He was happy, now.

The next morning, Gail made coffee and breakfast for their houseguest, and the three of them chatted pleasantly. JD thanked the couple again for their generosity.

Gail cleared her throat. "We have to leave in a few minutes, but there's something we need to tell you, before we go."

JD's face fell. "You want me to leave," he said.

"No!" she exclaimed. "Not at all. Why would you say that?"

"Because JD doesn't seem to be welcome in one place for too long," he said sadly. "Even my foster family told me to hit the road."

"Well, we're not doing that," Gail said firmly. "We just have to tell you the truth about us, because you're going to find out soon, anyway."

"Oh, my God. You're cannibals," JD joked. Gail's lips twitched. "Step dancers? Jehovah's Witnesses?" he went on.

Gail laughed delightedly. "Another brother with a good sense of humour!" she said happily. "How lucky am I?"

JD frowned suddenly, and Cas interpreted his change of expression to be one of confusion. "We're Angels, JD," he said to Gail's half-brother.

"Of course you are," JD said firmly. He was amusing himself now, watching the looks on their faces. "You've been very kind."

"No, we're actual, literal, Angels," Cas continued patiently.

JD made his jaw drop. "No way," he said.

"Way," Gail said, smiling. "I can prove it, if it wouldn't freak you out too much."

"How?" he said.

"I'll be right back," she replied, and then she promptly disappeared.

JD didn't have to do too much of an acting job for that, because it actually had freaked him out a bit. Then she returned in a moment or two, holding that ridiculous stuffed penguin. "Ta-da," she said.

"That's amazing," JD said. "What else can you do? How come you're here, instead of in Heaven? Are any of your other brothers Angels?"

Gail smiled. "No, they're all humans. But we have Angel friends who are like family, and you'll be meeting them at the party. I'm sorry, but we have to go now. I promise you we'll answer all your other questions when we get back. Okay?"

"OK," JD said in a subdued tone. "I hope you're not going to be gone long. JD misses you when you're away."

Gail smiled. "Thank you, JD. That's really sweet. We shouldn't be too long."

Cas took Ralph from her, winking himself to the bedroom to get their travel bag. Then they said goodbye to JD, and then they were gone.

A couple of days later, they were at the maritime museum. They'd gone first thing in the morning, to check out the exhibits, and the place's security setup. To their surprise, the museum didn't charge admission. But there was a box in the lobby with a sign beside it that said donations were welcome, and Cas felt so guilty about what they had to do there that he stuffed a handful of bills into the box.

It was a nice building, with an old-time feel. The floors and ceilings were all made of wood, with rafters up on the upper levels. And, as might be expected, there were lots of boats. Real boats, models of boats, and pictures of boats. Boats, boats, boats.

Or, were they ships? Gail thought. "What's the difference between a ship and a boat?" she asked aloud.

"About a million dollars," a voice said from behind her. She turned around to see an older gentleman standing there. He was wearing a red shirt, khaki pants, and a Captain's hat.

"Sorry, my dear," he said to her. "That's an old joke, but it's still a funny one, I think. I'm Cap'n Mattis, at your service." He tipped her a brief salute.

"Let's go outside and enjoy some of the sunshine, and the nice, cool breeze coming from the water," Sam said, nudging Gail. "Excuse us, Sir," he added, looking at the Captain.

"I'm glad you said that thing about the breeze," Gail said, "otherwise, I would have told you to forget it. Is it ever a hot one, today." She fanned herself with her hand, as if that was going to do any good.

"Dean and I need to look at the perimeter," Sam advised her in a soft voice. "I just thought you might enjoy the fresh, sea air."

Cas turned his face up to the sun, smiling. "I've missed weather," he stated simply, and the brothers smiled. They walked along the dock and around the corner of the building, casually surveying the perimeter, and then they went back inside.

They came upon a library area, and Sam gazed around, enthralled. There was a fancy-looking chandelier hanging from the ceiling, model ships on the higher shelves, big, comfy reading chairs, and tons of books, of course, in glass-doored cabinets. "Wow," the younger Winchester breathed.

"Now you know what to get Sam for his birthday," Gail teased Dean. "This entire room." But Dean was distracted now, seeing what was coming up further along.

"Cannons!" he said excitedly, rushing into the next room.

As Dean was admiring the cannons, Gail looked up at the wall display. There were all kinds of stuffed fish hanging there, including a great big shark's head, with lots of big, sharp teeth. "Yikes," Gail said, and then she and Sam said simultaneously, "We're gonna need a bigger boat." Then they looked at each other and laughed.

"Hey, there's a cafeteria," Dean said, pointing. "Let's go get something to eat."

They all sat down at a table in the place, and as Sam and Dean perused the menu, Cas and Gail were smiling at each other. Gail noticed how much happier and more relaxed her husband was, and she was glad. She felt the same way. And, going places with Sam and Dean was never dull.

"Boy, they have a lot of good choices here," Sam remarked.

"I'm gonna have the oyster sandwich," Dean said, pointing to the picture.

Sam made a face. "Dude, that's got to be the least healthy thing on the menu."

"Wouldja just stop being the food police for about two seconds?" Dean groused. "It looks good."

Gail wrinkled her nose. "Oysters? Yuk," she commented.

"How would you know?" Dean shot back. "Did you ever eat one?"

"No, but it sounds gross," she said stubbornly.

"Well then, it's lucky you don't eat, isn't it?" Dean retorted. Then he grinned. "It's a good thing this is the summer, 'cause I don't think you're supposed to eat oysters in months with an 'arrr' in them."

Gail threw her hands up in frustration. "Oh, my God," she said. "How long have you been holding on to that little gem?"

"Long enough," Dean said, still grinning. He was extremely proud of himself now. Wait till Frank got a load of that one.

Once the Winchesters had eaten lunch, they all headed to the Blackbeard section of the museum. They saw the chest right away. It was in fairly pristine shape, considering that it must have spent some significant time at the bottom of the ocean. It was a big brown wooden chest, with ornate carvings around the edges.

"I would wager that it's heavier than it looks," Cas said softly. "That must be why Andy asked for all four of us to be involved."

They moved on casually, not wanting to arouse suspicion by being overly interested in the chest.

"Hey, look at this pay scale," Sam remarked, pointing to a laminated list on the wall. "Back in Blackbeard's time, a General in the Confederate Army got $301 a month."

"Ooooh. Three hundred and ONE dollars?" Gail said dryly. "I wonder what the extra dollar was for."

"Probably a hooker," Dean said, smirking.

"Oh, real classy, Dean," she said, rolling her eyes.

Dean shrugged. "Hey, have you SEEN some of those women from back then?"

Now Gail was getting mad. She wasn't sure why, exactly. Maybe she felt like she had to defend her gender, or something. "Oh, yeah?" she said sassily. "Like the pirates were any better? Ugly guys, chewing tobacco? They probably hadn't even showered in weeks, when they came into shore from being on the open seas. Ewww."

Sam grinned. "I just thought of an excellent joke about seamen, but I'd better not say it right now, or Cas'll punch me out for telling it to you," he said to Gail.

Cas was only half listening to their exchange now, though, because he had spotted a large display of the weapons that had been in use at the time. He headed straight there now as Gail elbowed Sam. "Tell it to me later," she said to him, smiling mischievously. "We'll get Dean to distract Cas, while you do."

They walked over to the display to join Cas, who was admiring the cutlasses. There were pistols, too, but he had always favoured the swords.

"Cool," Dean remarked. He peered at the large gun on the bottom. "What's that thing?"

"It's a musketoon, Dean," Cas told his friend. Sam came over to look. "A musketoon?" the younger Winchester asked, curious. "What's that? Is that like a musket?"

"Kind of," Cas said, indicating the thick-barreled rifle. "Not quite as unwieldy as the musket, but the kickback was considerable. I always preferred the cutlasses, myself."

The Winchesters were used to talk like this from Cas by now, but they never got tired of it. It was so cool to think that their best friend had been around for that long, and had fought with the very weapons that they were looking at now.

"Hey, I just got that," Gail said suddenly, and the men looked at her. "Winchester," she said, open-mouthed. "Your last name is a gun."

They looked at her in silence for a moment. "Did you just get that now?" Dean asked her. "How long have you known us?" Sam said, gesturing. "Cheque, please," he wisecracked.

Gail was embarrassed, but she realized she completely deserved what they were doing to her now. Has she only just noticed that? She looked around wildly for a diversion. "Balls!" she exclaimed, pointing.

"What? What did you say?" Dean asked her, doing a double-take.

"Balls!" she repeated. She'd figured that might get their attention.

"I think she's got Bobby Singer Tourette's Syndrome," Sam joked.

"Cannonballs," Cas said, shaking his head slowly and pointing to where Gail was looking. The three of them were so silly together, sometimes. He loved that about them, just as he loved all of them more than he would ever be able to adequately express.

"Ohhh," the brothers said in unison.

"And, look. There's some kind of weird sea creature skeleton up there," Gail said, pointing at the ceiling. Sure enough, there was the skeleton of a very large something-or-other, suspended from the ceiling.

"Cool," Dean said again. He couldn't seem to stop saying that. This was the best museum he'd ever been in. "What's that, Cas? The Loch Ness Monster?"

Sam looked at his brother. "What the hell would the Loch Ness Monster be doing here, Dean? You know where Loch Ness is, right?"

"I hope it's NOT one of them," Gail said softly to Cas, touching his arm. "They have to stay together." He smiled warmly at her.

"Maybe it's the kraken," Dean said eagerly.

"I guess somebody released it a little too soon," Sam remarked, his lips twitching.

"Hey, Sammy, get a picture of me with this pirate," Dean said, rushing over to one of the statues in the middle of the room. "Gail, c'mere. He can be threatening you, and I'll protect you from him."

"Ordinarily, that would be my job," Cas said, smiling slowly, "but seeing as he has no weapon, I'll allow it."

Sam looked at Cas, and then the younger Winchester broke into a grin. "Up top," he said, offering his hand to Cas for a rare high-five.

Dean was doing his "tough guy" pose beside the statue now, and Gail tried to look helpless and scared for the photo. Then Dean said, "Arrrr. Have you ever been to sea, Billy?" "See what?" Gail said in an artificially high voice, and the two of them laughed.

"Why do we ever bring those two to museums?" Sam asked Cas rhetorically. "You'd think we would have learned, by now." He looked off in space, past Dean. "Oh, my God! Look! It's Aslaf!"

Dean whipped his head around to look, so fast that Gail was sure he would need a neck brace in the morning. "Made you look," Sam said with a self-satisfied grin.

Captain Mattis had just happened to be passing by, and he stopped in his tracks now. "You know, we don't all talk like Popeye, say 'arrr', or smoke a corncob pipe, young man," he admonished Dean with a stern expression.

"Our sincere apologies, Sir," Cas said to the older man. "We did not intend to impugn you."

The Captain looked startled. Maybe he hadn't expected to receive such a polite, courtly apology. "Oh. Well. That's all right, then," he said, rather pompously. Then he took a corncob pipe out of his pocket, stuck it in his mouth, and strolled away.

Sam and Gail burst out laughing, once the man was safely out of earshot. "Come on, let's go," Dean said to the others. "This has been great, but I want to get a beer and a nap in, before we have to come back later. Did you see everything you needed to see, Sammy?"

"Oh, yeah," Sam said, nodding. "Piece of cake."

And actually, it had been. Sam had expertly bypassed the museum's security system, and they had popped in to the area where they'd seen the chest after the motion sensors and the cameras had been deactivated. The chest had proved to be quite a bit heavier than it looked, so all three men hefted it, as Gail put her hands on Sam and Dean's arms. She and Cas used their combined powers to wink everyone and the chest to a nearby laneway, where Dean had parked the car. They had quickly loaded the chest in the trunk, and then taken off.

They'd driven non-stop back to Kansas, with the men all sharing the driving. Cas took the last leg of the trip, with Gail sitting beside him in the front seat as the brothers dozed fitfully in the back.

Once they were back at the bunker and the chest was safely locked away in the storeroom, Dean yawned widely. "Well, I don't know about Sam, but I need to sleep in a bed for a while," he told the Angels. "Why don't we call you tomorrow, and then we can go see our best buddy Andy, at the crazy place." He yawned again. "I had a good time, you guys. You're a lot of fun, Mrs. Buzzkill, I've gotta admit."

"You're not so bad yourself, Dean Winchest-arrrr," she said pertly. "Hey! We just stole a chest, and your name is WinCHESTer! It works on so many levels!"

"Cas, take your wife home. She's starting to babble," Dean said, rolling his eyes. But he was smiling when he said it.


	5. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Chapter 5 - A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

In the morning, Gail felt bad about having to leave JD alone at the house yet again. But she advised him that their absence would be brief this time. To make up for it, she told him that he could do her a big favour: could he start writing down types of foods he liked, and snack ideas for the party they were going to throw? That way, they could start shopping for supplies right away, when they got back. It would sure help her out.

"JD would be happy to do that for you," he said, smiling.

Gail and Cas winked over to the bunker. Sam was just getting off the phone with Dr. Carstairs, who had advised that they could come to the institution immediately, if they wished.

"Go ahead, you guys. I'll be right there," Dean said to the others. But as Cas, Sam and Gail started to walk towards the garage, she stopped short. "Can you guys wait for me, for just a minute?" she asked the men. "I just thought of a couple more things I want JD to add to the list for the party." She smiled. "I'll be back before Dean finishes seeing his horse."

"He's seeing a man ABOUT a horse," Sam corrected her, grinning.

"Whatever," Gail said, rolling her eyes. "I think it's pathetic that I know his habits so well by now that we're even standing here talking about his horse in the first place."

"Maybe that's what Frank is really referring to, when he mentions the elephant," Sam wisecracked.

She made a face. "Oh, thanks for the yucky mental image, Sam." As her friend laughed, Gail touched Cas's arm. "I'll meet you at the car in a minute." Then she popped out.

"How's it going with JD?" Sam asked Cas. Gail's husband gave him a half-shrug. "It's fine, I suppose," Cas said.

"Does he really refer to himself in the third person?" Sam asked curiously.

"Yes, he does, Sam," Cas told him.

The younger Winchester shook his head slowly, in wonder. "Well, I have to admit, that's sure different. Dean says only total douches refer to themselves in the third person, like sports figures who have huge egos. But that doesn't sound like JD's issue. Maybe he's just eccentric, but Dean and Frank think there's more to it than that."

Cas frowned. "Between you and me, Sam, I don't really care for him. But, he has done nothing wrong. Do you think I should be concerned?"

"I don't know, Cas. I've never met the guy, so I can't really form an opinion until I do," Sam replied.

Cas nodded. That was only fair. "Maybe you can come by our house after we see Gail's uncle, then. We'll tell JD that you were eager to meet him. Is that all right?"

Sam agreed. He wouldn't miss it. He was very intrigued about Gail's half-brother now.

Meanwhile, Gail had popped over to the house. When she and Cas had left, JD had been sitting at the kitchen table, starting his list. But he wasn't there, although the paper and pen were.

She walked through the dining room to the living room. Nope. Was he in his room, maybe? She called out for him as she walked down the hallway.

JD heard her calling his name, and he panicked for a moment. Damn it! What was she doing back, already? It was a good thing he hadn't undressed yet. But still, how was he going to explain his presence in her and Cas's bedroom?

He hurried out into the hallway, and she stopped suddenly. "What were you doing in our room?" she asked him.

He hung his head. "I'm sorry, Gail. To tell you the truth, I went in there to watch a little TV."

She eyed him. "There's a TV in the living room."

"Please don't be mad," JD entreated her. "OK, OK. The real truth is, I like to watch TV in your room because it makes me feel closer to you and Cas. I just miss you so much when you're gone."

Gail continued to stare at her half-brother. She supposed that was sweet, in a way, but it seemed a little weird to her, too. He had just met them, and they hadn't even spent that much time together. Maybe he had just grown inordinately attached to them because he was so lonely. She sighed. "I don't think I'm comfortable with your hanging around in our bedroom, JD. I know you're my brother, but we just met. I hope you understand that. I'm sorry we haven't been around much, but this is the kind of life that Cas and I live. But we're going to have our party, and once you meet some of our other family and friends, you'll have lots of people to hang out with while we're away. I'm also going to see if we can get everybody networking, to get you a job. So don't worry, JD. Soon you're going to have so much company you'll be begging us all for some alone time."

JD was smiling at her, but just underneath the surface, he was getting agitated. He didn't want to spend time with any of her loser brothers. He wanted to spend time with HER. But he'd better not say anything right now. He'd seen the look on her face when she'd spotted him coming out of her room. He hadn't been doing anything wrong in there, but he had known that it would make her feel uncomfortable. He was rushing her. That had always been his problem. That was why he'd had to kill all those girls; they would freak out, when he told them he loved them. But those had just been random girls he'd picked up on the road. Gail was his sister, by blood, and she had already shown him more love and kindness than anyone ever had, in his whole life. He just had to stay calm, and not blow it.

Gail had been a little bit preoccupied when she'd gotten back to the bunker, but she'd just passed it off as excitement about the party. She didn't really know if she should tell Cas about JD having been in their room, or not. She was sure that he would rant and rave and lose his temper, and then Dean would chime in with his snide comments, and it would become a whole big thing. She wasn't happy that JD had been in their room either, but he had looked suitably contrite, and then he had looked so happy when she'd talked to him about meeting a bunch of their friends and family. As long as he didn't do anything else that she objected to, Gail was willing to let it slide for the time being.

Besides, there was her Uncle Andy to deal with, now. As soon as they walked into the visitors' room, Cas strode over to Andy and told him to stand up. Gail's uncle rose to his feet, and Cas moved in closer, until his face was mere inches from Andy's.

"We have done everything you have requested, and now we are here to receive the final piece of the puzzle," Cas said, gazing steadily into Andy's eyes. "There will be no more steps to take, and no more delays. You will tell us everything that is required for the tracking spell, and then our business will be concluded. Decent people do not blackmail others. If you hadn't threatened Gail with harm on each of our visits, she may have taken compassion on you and visited you on occasion, if you desired the company. But she will not be coming back after today, and you only have yourself to blame."

They all sat down in uncomfortable silence and then, a moment later, Andy said, "You have to put the ashes in the urn and then you have to bleed seven drops of Gail's blood on top of the ashes. That's not a threat," he added hastily, "it's just the spell. Then seal the urn, and put it in the chest. Take the chest to any beach in the Caribbean that has black sands. Throw it in the water, and then follow it to where it leads you."

They waited a moment, but Andy had nothing further to say, so Sam asked him, "That's it? That'll lead us to Vincent?"

"It should," Andy said laconically.

"Where are you getting your information from?" Cas asked Gail's uncle bluntly. "How do we know that we can believe one word that you are saying?"

Tears formed in Andy's eyes. "You don't. You can't. I'm crazy, I know. I don't know where I'm getting this from. It just comes into my head." He wasn't telling them the truth, of course. It was Abigail who had fed him the information. But she had been adamant about keeping her name out of it. Why didn't Andy just tell them that it had come from her? He didn't owe her anything. He didn't even know her. But there had just been something about her, some quality in her that had scared him a little.

So he kept his mouth shut about that, but now, as Andy looked at his niece, he began to cry silent tears. Of course she would never come to visit him again. Why should she? He was a pathetic, crazy old man, who had no reason to even be on this earth. He should just take all those meds he'd been saving up, swallow them, and give up. Why had he threatened to hurt Gail? He hadn't even meant it. But there was no way they would believe him if he said that now. He wouldn't have believed him, either.

"I'm sorry, Gail," Andy said in a low voice. "I wish I could help you more with Vincent. He's ruined all of our lives. How can I help you, when I can't even seem to help myself? I know it'll be impossible for you to believe, but I'm not a homicidal maniac. Really, I'm not." He let out a shaky laugh. "It was nice to meet you. It was nice to meet all of you. It was good to have normal people to talk to, for a change. I used to talk to people at the office where I worked, when I was almost..." His voice broke. "I think a few of them even liked me. There was dignity in making a paycheque, and having a house of my own. I wasn't always that messy, you know. When I thought I wasn't crazy any more, I used to keep it neat and tidy. I even dated a nice girl, from my office. But then Vincent told me I should kill her, and I told him I didn't want to, but he just kept hammering away at me in my head, like he always does." Startlingly, Andy began to pummel away at his head with his fists. "He - just - wouldn't - shut - the - hell - UP!" he shouted. Just as Sam started to get out of his chair to call for the orderly, Andy stopped hitting himself. He hung his head sadly, and a moment later, he said, "Eventually, I was afraid I was going to do it, so I quit my job. And that was the beginning of the end." He started to cry again. "Cas is right. Why would you want to come and see a monster like me? Just leave me here, and let me rot. It's too late for me. I'm old, and crazy, and my entire life has been a waste. But at least I have the comfort of knowing I never really harmed anyone. I didn't, Gail. I promise you that."

Gail was really sad now. Andy was right. What a terrible shame that his life had been like that. He'd never even gotten the chance to live a normal existence. But, Cas was right; Gail couldn't see herself coming here to visit him in the future. What would they talk about? What did they have in common, besides having a mutual relative who meant them both harm? Andy was all tearful and apologetic right now, but Gail hadn't forgotten how evil he'd looked and sounded when he had threatened her on their previous visits. Compassion was one thing, but who the hell needed that? Like Gail didn't have enough people in her life who would be only too glad to maim or kill her? Like she needed one more?

"I feel sympathy for you," she said shortly, standing from her chair. "Good luck, Andy. Good luck, and goodbye."

She strode to the door, telling the orderly that they were ready to leave, and a minute later, they were gone.

They were driving back to Cas and Gail's house now, and the mood was quiet and subdued. As Cas and Sam had agreed earlier, Sam casually mentioned that he would like to meet JD, so it was agreed that the brothers would come by the house, have a quick visit, and then take off. Cas and Gail were going to have the party the following evening, so they had to start doing the inviting and the shopping immediately. Then, following the party, they would have to make the arrangements to go on their strange errand. Logically speaking, Cas and Gail should just pop down there by themselves, and get the deed done. But Gail was pretty sure that Dean would never forgive them if they excluded him and Sam from the excursion. How many years had Dean been talking longingly about a beach vacation? Okay, this wasn't exactly that, but maybe they could sneak in an hour or two for the Winchesters to sit in beach chairs, drinking a local beer or three. Maybe Gail would have one of those tall, cold umbrella drinks. Summer was slowly winding down now, but it was bound to be really hot there, still.

Gail perked up a little bit now at the thought of taking a trip with Cas, and Sam and Dean, to an exotic place. Sure, it would be hot during the day, but the nights would probably be nice and cool, like they had been in Egypt. True, they were going there for a strange and unpleasant reason, but she and Cas had always somehow managed to sneak in some romantic time in practically every location they'd ever gone. Of course, that all depended on whether this chest thing was even going to work. And if it did, what were they going to face at the other end? They hadn't even talked about that yet. If the chest led them to Vincent, would he be alone, or would the others be with him? They knew how to kill Ammit, if they could only get close enough to her. They would just have to make sure she wasn't occupying one of their loved ones at the time. But they had no idea how to kill Raguel. Even when Cas had been God, he had been unable to kill Raguel. Why? Gail knew that Archangels had some extra juice, for lack of a better term, but, what the heck was it going to take? And then, there was Vincent himself. They had all been very deftly avoiding the Elephant, in his case. If he was truly immortal, as all evidence had suggested so far, how did you kill an immortal being? The ugly notion, the one they'd all been not talking about, was the actual Elephant: If Vincent would only die once all of his children were dead, what were they supposed to do about that?

"It's good to meet you, JD," Sam said affably, putting his hand out for a shake.

JD shook his hand, looking up in amazement. "You're tall," he said.

"No stuff, Sherlock," Dean muttered, and Sam grinned. "So THAT'S why my head keeps brushing the ceiling," he joked lightly.

"You're making fun of JD," Gail's half-brother said through gritted teeth. "JD doesn't like that."

Sam's forehead wrinkled, and his grin faded. "Sorry, dude, we were just goofing around," he said.

"Yeah, we rag on each other like that all the time," Dean protested. "Frank, too."

JD frowned deeply, but Gail was looking at him now, and he wanted to look normal for her. So he smiled at the brothers, but he was seething underneath. Frank was the worst one, in JD's opinion. He had laughed at JD when he was here, and then Frank had told Gail's brother to leave. JD was Gail's real brother. Not Frank. Not these guys.

"I want to help you do some shopping for the party," JD said suddenly.

Cas had been about to demur, but Gail misinterpreted the look on JD's face. To her, he looked like he was really trying to fit in, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. At least if he could help them with the party, he would be paying them back for their hospitality. So she looked at Cas. "Can you give JD some money, sweetie?" Then she looked at her half-brother. "Can you get a few cases of beer?" she asked him. "A lot of our guests drink beer, including these guys. And Frank. Especially Frank."

JD smiled as Cas opened his wallet.

"JD would be - I mean, I would be - very happy to do that," JD told her. Oh, he would be very happy to serve Frank some beer. Very happy, indeed.

"Do you want any help there, buddy?" Sam offered, trying to be nice.

"No. I have a car. I'll go right now," JD said, taking the money from Cas's hand. Then he left the house, without another word.

"OK, that guy is Spicy Hot, at least. Seriously," Dean remarked, referring to his chicken-wing scale of craziness.

"He's sure eccentric," Sam said, trying to be more diplomatic, for Gail's sake.

"I'm not denying that," Gail said to Sam. "I just feel sorry for him, that's all."

"Don't bother. I already tried," Dean said to his brother. He gave Cas a look, and Cas gave his friend a brief nod. He knew what Dean was trying to convey.

"OK, get lost, you two," Gail said good-naturedly. "We have a party to plan."

But as soon as the brothers left, Gail turned to Cas and sighed. "I think we're going to have to ask JD to leave," she said to her husband. "He can stay for the party, but I think he's going to have to go, after that. We can still help him out financially, but I don't feel comfortable having him stay here in the house anymore."

Cas was relieved. He'd been thinking the same thing, but he hadn't wanted to upset her. He assumed she was uncomfortable about the apparent friction between JD and the men she'd introduced him to, and she was, but this morning's incident was preying on her mind a little more than she'd thought it would. Her brother would just have to understand.

JD waited in line at the cash register, trying to remain still. But he was really excited now. He'd made a side trip on the way to the beer store, finding what he was looking for almost immediately. He took that as a sign. He'd never used it before, but he'd seen it on TV on those crime shows, loads of times.

"Did you find everything all right, Sir?" the cashier asked him. She picked up the bottle and turned it around in her hand, looking for the bar code. She ran it over the scanner. "This is a good brand," she went on. "My sister had a vermin problem, but she used this stuff, and now she doesn't."

"What a coincidence," JD said, giving her some of Cas's money. "My sister's got a vermin problem, too. But she won't, after tomorrow night." He took the change she provided to him, picked up the bag with the rat poison in it, and exited the store, giggling.

The party was in full swing now, and most of the guests were feeling very festive.

Dean had been a little more restrained about things when they'd gone to see Gail's uncle in consideration for her feelings, but once he'd had a few drinks at the party, he was excitedly telling everyone that he and Sam were finally going to have that beach vacation they'd never had. But he was discreet enough not to go into any particulars around Nicole, who had agreed to accompany him to this party. She still seemed a bit skittish about the whole supernatural thing after their visit to Quinn's, so he'd decided to lay off the subject in her presence for a while, giving her the impression that he and his brother were merely going to the Caribbean for a tropical vacation. Fortunately, she hadn't said anything about him inviting her to come along.

But then, he had another drink, and then Dean started to wonder if that was such a good thing, after all. The next installment in the movie series wasn't being filmed yet. Chuck hadn't even finished the script. So, if she was supposed to be his girlfriend, wouldn't she WANT to come on a Caribbean holiday with him? Or wouldn't she at least ask him why he wasn't asking her to go?

Nicole WAS skittish. She was looking at Quinn, who was standing across the room having a drink with Sam. That visit to Quinn's place had been so weird. But if it had just been that, Nicole would have been able to get past it. No, what she was feeling was a lot deeper than that. There was something that Dean and Sam and the Angels weren't telling her. She knew there was. There was a chunk of time that she couldn't account for, between the time she had left the apartment to go to the bunker, and the time that she and the brothers had gone to Quinn's. Unbeknownst to her, Cas had modified her memory. But what he didn't modify was the timeline. Anyway, the bottom line was that Nicole couldn't remember a damn thing that had happened during that time frame. Not one damn thing. And she didn't even know if she should ask Dean about it, or not. He and Sam and Cas and Gail kept exchanging furtive glances, and Nicole was a little afraid to ask them about it, because she was afraid that they either wouldn't tell her the truth, or worse, that they would.

Cas's eyes had been following Jody around the house. He'd been trying to figure out a way to touch her forehead without her becoming suspicious. But he couldn't come up with anything that seemed clever enough. It was funny, really; women touched men casually all the time. Gail touched people on the arm, both men and women, and if she'd wanted to touch any man they knew on his forehead, Cas was sure that all she would have to do was ask him to bend down. They probably wouldn't even ask her why. But Gail was Gail, and she was adorable. It was different for men, especially with regards to touching women. One had to be very careful, lest one's motives be considered suspect. Luckily, that wouldn't be the case here. Jody was his sister-in-law, which might afford him a little more casual familiarity than if he had to read a stranger, or an acquaintance.

Finally, he decided on the tried-and-true method. Hopefully, he and Jody had the sort of relationship in which she would just take what he was saying at face value. He saw his chance when he saw Jody walking into the kitchen, carrying a few empty paper plates for disposal. Cas followed her, and after she threw the paper plates into a large garbage bag in the corner and turned back around, Cas said, "Hello, Jody."

His appearance hadn't startled her, because there were all manner of people bustling around the house. "Oh, hi, Cas," she said.

"You have a spot of food, I think, right - there." Cas touched an area on his own forehead first, and when Jody tried to mirror him, he said, "Not quite. Do you mind?" He reached out towards her, and she moved forward. Cas touched her forehead as if he were dabbing at a spot of food with his fingers.

He struggled to keep a neutral expression. But as soon as he'd made the mental connection, Cas was disturbed, because he couldn't make out anything at all. He only saw a black, murky fog. Then, three letters, with a question mark after them: GBM? What the hell was that? What was he looking at? Or, more accurately, what was the black fog obscuring?

Cas lingered a moment longer, but then he had no choice but to remove his hand. "Got it," he told her, and then he moved past her to rinse his hand under the tap, to continue the ruse.

When the two of them emerged from the kitchen, Bobby was calling for everyone's attention. Once the noise level had subsided, Bobby said, "Chuck, you have the floor."

Chuck and Laurel were holding hands, and both of them were smiling widely. "We finally set the date," Chuck told everyone. "Laurel wants a spring wedding, so it'll be next May, on the 17th. Oh, and don't worry: it'll be here on Earth, so Hester and all of our human friends can come."

"A toast, to Chuck's finally getting off the pot," Bobby said, prompting laughter from their friends.

"Still lots of time to change your mind, Laurel," Dean called out, prompting more laughs.

"I haven't been to a proper wedding in ages," Linda commented. "Should be fun."

"Do you think you'll ever get married again?" Paul asked his lady friend.

"Why do you ask?" she said suspiciously, giving him the side-eye.

Paul laughed. "No reason," he said. "Just making conversation.'

Linda continued to eye him for a moment, and then she decided to change the subject. "I wish we could have persuaded Kevin to come," she remarked. "He could use a break." Now, she almost regretted having gone to see Gail that night. The plan to get Kevin out of Linda and Paul's hair had worked a little too well. As soon as he had been assigned the translation of the Tablets, Linda's son had put his nose to the grindstone, and it was still there.

"Hey, Bobby, can you come here for a minute?" Linda called out. He crossed the room to where she and Paul stood. "What's up, Linda?" he asked her.

"Kevin's been working himself to the ground over those Tablets," Linda complained. "You know how he is. Can you maybe talk to him, and tell him it's OK to have a life, too?"

"Yeah, Bobby," Paul agreed. "It's like the song says: 'A Little Party Never Killed Nobody'."

Bobby looked at him blankly. "That's a song?"

"Fergie," Paul said shortly, and Bobby continued to stare. "The Duchess of York made a record?" he added quizzically.

"A record? What's a record?" Rob teased Bobby, nudging the older man.

Bobby knew that Rob was just trying to be lighthearted, but for an instant, he felt an overwhelming wave of sadness. Bobby's mind had just gone back to when Riley had first arrived at the bunker. The young Angel had been unfamiliar with many of the terms that Bobby used to communicate, because they had been raised as part of different generations. Riley had exasperated Bobby by asking what the hell the older Angel was talking about, on numerous occasions. But there wasn't much that Bobby wouldn't give to have Riley here, asking him about those things again. Efram, too. The loss of those young Angels had hurt all of them, an awful lot. The incident had served as a cautionary tale for Bobby, too. It was like the old saying, that with great power comes great responsibility. Cas had thought that he was doing the right thing, but regardless of whether he had been, he'd done it for the wrong reasons. When other people's lives hung in the balance, you couldn't let your personal feelings cloud your judgement. Not that they hadn't all been guilty of that very same thing in the past. That was why Bobby had never condemned Cas for his decision that day. If he had, he would have been a damn hypocrite.

"The Black-Eyed Peas," Paul was saying now, and then he grinned. "The singing group, not the Demons."

"Oh," Bobby said, still puzzled. "Right."

"So, will you?" Linda asked Bobby.

"Will I what?" he inquired.

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Will you talk to Kevin?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Linda. I'll tell you what. I'll do ya one better. I'll get him some help. That'll free up his time a little," Bobby replied. "How are you, dear?" he said to Jody, who happened to be passing by. "How's Angela?"

That was the opportunity Cas had been looking for. While Jody was occupied with Bobby and some of the other Angels, Cas took Frank aside. "I'm sorry, Frank, but I couldn't read what Jody was thinking about," Cas told his brother-in-law.

Frank frowned, but he wasn't all that surprised, really. After all this time, Gail's brother was still a little in the dark about Cas's powers. He was under the mistaken impression that now that Cas was no longer God, he had been more or less demoted to the status of an ordinary Angel. That wasn't really true, but Cas did nothing to disabuse him of that notion, because even though Cas didn't exactly know the significance of the darkness he'd seen, he was afraid it could be nothing good.

"Thanks for trying anyway, Buddy," Frank said to Cas now. "We'll talk some more about it later, but right now, I want you to come with me for a minute. There's something you need to see."

Barry and Tommy were holding court in a corner of the living room, and as soon as they saw Cas and Frank, they called them over. "We've got news," Barry told Cas excitedly, pulling him over by the sleeve of his shirt. "Show him," he said to Tommy, who extended a photograph for Cas to look at. "Meet Ilene," he said, grinning. "Our daughter."

Cas looked at the picture, open-mouthed. A cute, chubby baby, dressed in a colourful onesie with a pink ribbon in her hair. "When did this happen?" Cas asked the men, smiling slowly.

"We've been on a waiting list for a while now," Barry told him. "We have lots of room, and lots of love to give. Now, Peter will have a younger sister to dote on, and take care of. Carolyn's gone back to work now, so I'm a full-time caregiver. I'm not performing any more, but I've put an ad online to give singing lessons, if anyone will bite. But I'm happy just staying home with the kids."

"And I'm still tinkering around with my novel, but I've taken a few freelance jobs here and there," Tommy added. "Thanks to you, Cas, we're more than okay financially now, and so we're free to pursue whatever we love. We'll always be grateful to you for that."

"Congratulations," Cas said, hugging both men. "Please give Carolyn our best. Gail and I will try to come by, as soon as we can." He craned his neck, looking around the room. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Last I saw, she and JD were near the dining room table," Frank said, taking a drink. "Guy sure likes to eat."

Cas diplomatically avoided pointing out that he had noticed Frank's fondness for eating, as well. There was quite a bit of friction between Frank and JD, possibly because each of them saw himself as Gail's brother, and also because Frank was very leery of JD. Cas was, too, but he was trying very hard to keep an open mind about the fellow. JD had been very friendly and helpful when it had come to planning the party, and tonight, he had been bustling around the house, replenishing food and drinks for everyone. Most of the guests had seemed quite taken by him.

JD was at his charming best right now, telling jokes and being self-deprecating. He and Gail were standing talking to Liz and Quinn, and JD was fantasizing that he was Cas, and he and Gail were throwing a little soiree at their house. He made a witty remark, and the women laughed. JD had gone out and bought a green shirt and black jeans, just like Cas had in his closet, and he was charming the women now, just like Cas would. This was what it felt like to be respectable, and not crazy. He looked at Gail. What a terrific girl she was. The perfect mate.

Frank elbowed Dean in the ribs. "Get a load of that guy," he said to the elder Winchester, rolling his eyes. "I guess 'JD is feeling happy today'. He looks like he thinks this is his damn house, or something."

"Yeah. Jack La-Douchette," Dean said, frowning. "Never mind. Let's go get another drink."

"Never mind?" Frank said irritably, but he allowed Dean to lead him away. "Guy could be Jack the Ripper, for all we know."

"I know we don't know him very well, but I think if he was that bad, Cas would have dusted him by now," Sam said reasonably, joining the men at the bar.

"I dunno, Sammy," Dean remarked. "Some of those guys are really good at hiding their true personalities, aren't they? The Ripper was never even caught."

"The Ripper? You mean, Jack the Ripper?" Rob said curiously, approaching where they were standing.

"No, they're talking about Irving the Ripper," Gail said sarcastically. She hit Frank on the arm. "I can hear you guys from across the room, you know. It's probably just my celestial hearing, but just cool it, will you? I don't want JD to hear you talking like that. He seems like he's coming out of his shell a bit, but he doesn't know what warped senses of humour you guys all have, yet. Can we just talk about something else?" She looked up at Frank. "How'd your application go? Have you heard anything back yet?"

"Application? For what?" Dean asked Frank.

"I was gonna wait till I was formally accepted," Frank said, frowning briefly at Gail, "But: I applied to be a candidate for city council. I'm still waiting to hear back from them. Obviously, we fudged my resume a little. Maybe a lot. But, Jody's cop friends went to bat for me."

"That's great, Frank," Sam enthused, but Dean was puzzled. "You're gonna be a politician?" he asked his friend.

"Maybe. Yeah," Frank responded.

"Why?" Dean asked him. "What about Hunting?"

"Ahhhh, I'm getting too old for that stuff," Frank said. "I'm a family man now. It's time for a new chapter in my life."

As Sam and Dean looked at each other, astonished, Frank nudged Gail. "That reminds me: they may want to do a background check on my family. You'll probably come out okay, but I don't know about your husband. He seems like a really shifty guy to me."

"And here I thought you liked me, Frank," Cas said good-naturedly, putting his arms around Gail from behind her and kissing her on the cheek.

"They're going to do a background check on Cas?" Rob quipped. "How long have they got?"

"Up top," Frank said, and he and his son high-fived smartly.

"Are you having a good time, my love?" Cas asked her. "I'm afraid this isn't a very glamorous reception party for you."

"Your wedding was pretty subdued, too," Frank remarked. "That's not like you guys."

"You're absolutely right, Frank," Cas agreed, giving Gail a squeeze. "I think, after we're done the missions we're about to undertake, we'll have to talk about that. Maybe we can keep on renewing our vows, every year or so."

"You could get married in different countries, and adopt the traditions of some other cultures, maybe," Liz said, joining the group. "I think that would be neat."

"How's everybody at the Seniors' Centre?" Gail asked her friend.

"Same as usual," Liz said affably. "Oh, Cas, Leah said to tell you that she's been working hard on a square for her quilt that depicts you killing somebody important, but that it's slow going, right now. She said she'll send one of us to give you the word when the Father gives HER the Word."

"Somebody important," Gail mused aloud. "That sounds promising."

"We'll be leaving for the Caribbean tomorrow," Cas told the group, "but we'll let you know where we're staying, Frank. And, of course, Bobby can find us anytime."

"See, kiddo?" Frank said, nudging Gail. "You may not have had a fancy wedding or reception, but at least you're gonna have a nice Caribbran honeymoon. Hey, maybe you can stay at one of those modern hip-hop hotels."

"What are you talking about, Frank?" Cas said, puzzled.

"Instead of turn-down service, a bunch of rappers come to your room and sing 'Turn down for WHAT?'" Frank said with a grin.

"Oh, my God, Dad," Rob said, rolling his eyes.

"What? That's comedy gold, there," Frank insisted. Then he started doing what he deemed to be "gangsta poses", with Rob, and now Eric, imploring him to stop.

"I get the feeling things are about to get a lot more fun at City Hall," Sam said, grinning.

"Don't you mean, a lot more embarrassing?" Gail wisecracked. "Maybe, when they do the background check, I should say, 'Frank Who'?"

"Cas, can you come here for a second?" Bobby called from across the room.

Cas gave Gail another kiss and then walked away, and Frank rubbed his hands together with glee. "Good. Now that your protection's gone, I'm about to give you those mega-noogies you've been cruising for." He grabbed Gail in a headlock and was about to start messing up her hair when JD approached them and said, "Can I get you another drink, Frank?"

Frank frowned, letting go of Gail. OK, this was a party, he reminded himself. He could try to make nice.

"Sure, JD," he said. "If you're pouring, I'm drinking."

JD moved behind the bar. He got an empty glass and put a few ingredients in it, and then he snapped his fingers. "I forgot the Tabasco," he said. "I'll be right back." He picked up the glass and hurried to the kitchen with it as Frank groaned.

"Tabasco?" Gail's brother complained. "Great. Now I'm gonna be up all night with heartburn." He looked at Gail. "The things I do for you, kiddo."

Now Gail felt badly. She could tell that Frank was just trying to get along, which she appreciated, but she didn't want him to feel obligated to drink something that was going to make him lose sleep, either.

So she popped quickly into the kitchen to ask JD to lay off the Tabasco sauce, and that was when she saw him adding something else to Frank's drink, something from an eyedropper he'd pulled out of his pants pocket.

JD had filled up the eyedropper with the rat poison he'd bought prior to the party, and he'd just been biding his time. Truthfully, though, he hadn't been sure how much of it to use. If it worked like he hoped, there would be at least one dead brother coming out of this party. Even if Frank just got really sick, JD could up the dosage next time. From what he had been able to gather from everyone tonight, this group got together socially a lot, in different combinations. Many opportunities would arise in the future to get it just right.

When JD had seen the group of men over there, monopolizing Gail's time, he had been doing the slow burn. And when Frank had grabbed Gail like that, that had been the last straw. Nobody manhandled JD's girl like that. Frank wasn't Gail's brother, JD was, and JD would never treat her like that. He loved Gail. So, Frank had to go. Then it would be Dean, then Sam, and then finally, Cas. JD hadn't had any idea how he could kill Cas until this morning, when Vincent had come into his head and told his son that since Cas was no longer God, a simple Angel blade should do the trick. Cas nearly always had his in his jacket or in his pants pocket, but Gail was more cavalier about hers. In fact, right now it was in the top drawer of the bureau in her and Cas's bedroom, laying on top of her underwear. She never carried it when they were at social functions. And JD knew all about that drawer, didn't he? Vincent whispered slyly. That one time that his son had lingered undiscovered in that bedroom, Cas's clothes weren't the only ones he'd gone through, were they? In exactly how many ways was JD thinking about replacing Cas, anyway? So, she was his sister; so what? Vincent wouldn't tell anyone. Last he looked, murder was supposedly wrong too, and JD had done THAT a bunch of times.

But first, there was Frank. He was the worst, so he had to go first. JD giggled at his little poem. He grabbed a small bottle of Tabasco from the pantry and shook a few drops into the drink, stirring it vigorously. There. That should be enough to hide the taste of the poison. If there was a taste. It was odourless, so maybe it had no taste, either. JD guessed the rats weren't too nit-picky. He giggled again.

JD turned around quickly, holding the drink in one hand. It was a good thing nobody had come into the kitchen, or the whole thing might have been really awkward. But, he was in the clear. He brought the glass back out to Frank.

Gail had popped back out to the group wordlessly, trying to process what she'd just seen. But she couldn't come up with one single legitimate reason for JD to have done what she'd seen him do. Not one.

"Here, Frank. Try this. You'll like it," JD said, smiling. He handed Frank the glass.

"JD, could you do me a favour and check on the food?" Gail said, putting her hand on his arm. "I think some of it may need to be replenished."

"But, I want to see how Frank likes his drink," JD said, frowning.

"He's not going to drink it all at once," Gail told her half-brother. "Can you do this for me? Please? I'm the hostess. I'm supposed to go socialize with some of our other guests."

What was JD doing? Gail needed his help. There would be plenty of time to see Frank suffer. But, Gail had said "Our guests." OUR guests! JD's fantasy was coming true! He'd better do his part, then. "Sure, honey," he said, kissing her on the cheek, and he moved away from the group.

"'Honey'? What the hell was that?" Frank asked his sister. "Come on, even you have to admit THAT was weird."

Gail did, but she had other things to worry about, right now. "Give me that," she said, grabbing the drink from Frank's hand. She pretended to glance quickly into it. "Just as I thought. It's got a bug in it. Yuk. I guess somebody left the screen door open. I'll just get rid of this."

She hurried to the kitchen as the men stood there, looking open-mouthed after her. What had THAT been all about?

Gail stood at the sink in the kitchen. She gave the drink a quick, curious sniff, and then, she dumped the contents of the glass down the drain.

Oh, crap. Maybe she shouldn't have done that. Now, there was no proof of...what? What had that been, exactly? Poison? It had to be. What else could it have been? What the hell? What was she supposed to do now?

There wasn't any time for her to figure it out. JD came into the kitchen, carrying a couple of empty food plates. "You were right. We need some more chicken bites, and..." JD started to say, and then he saw the glass in her hand. "What are you doing?" he asked her, his eyes narrowing. He slowly put the plates on the kitchen table, not taking his eyes off of her.

Gail heaved a big sigh. He wasn't giving her a choice, here, was he? "I saw you put something in Frank's drink, JD," she said bluntly. "Do you want to explain yourself?"

His heart skipped a beat, but he smiled. "Of course I put something in it. I put Tabasco in it. That was the reason I came in here. Why, doesn't he like that? He should have said something, then. But you didn't have to pour it out, Gail. It was a good drink. You should have given it to Dean." He was babbling now. He should shut up, now. That was what they'd said on all of those cop shows. It was a sign of guilt.

"No, JD. You put something else in it. I saw you, with my own eyes," Gail insisted.

"No, I didn't," JD denied weakly, but Gail was shaking her head. "Don't. Don't do that. I SAW you, JD."

He smiled. "Well, I still deny it," he said affably. "But even so, you just dumped it, didn't you? So, if there was supposedly something in there that shouldn't be, where's your proof?"

Gail was shaking with anger now. "I want you to go down the hall to your room, pack your things, and leave, right now."

"No, you don't," he said softly, approaching her slowly. "If you wanted to bust me, you wouldn't have gotten rid of the evidence, and you wouldn't be here, talking to me, all alone. If you need me to get rid of all of those guys for you, I'll be glad to do it, honey. We don't need them; any of them. We can live here, together. Don't be mad about all those other women. I wouldn't have bothered with them if I had known about you."

"What other women?" she said, puzzled.

"So, you ARE upset about that. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but I want us to start out with a clean slate," JD said soothingly. "But, you don't have to be jealous. I killed them all. I killed them all because they weren't you."

Gail was frozen to the spot in shock, now. How could she have been so wrong about JD? He was Call The Authorities crazy, and he had been living right here in her house, right under her nose. "Get out of my house," she blurted out. "This is the last time I'll say it."

"Don't you mean OUR house, honey?" JD said softly. He was standing way too close to her now. "You called it 'our' house a few minutes ago. Say it's our house, Gail. Say you love me."

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the throat, and out of pure reflex, she reached behind herself and grabbed the sharp knife out of the sink, the one that Cas had been using to chop vegetables earlier. She remembered having seen it there when she'd first come into the kitchen. Probably, her subconscious was trained by now to notice potential weapons in the room. She was sure that Cas had taught her that, at some point. Or, it might have been the simple fact that she had given her head a shake when she'd seen it. Men. The dishwasher was right there, below the counter, by the sink. Gail was actually fully capable of cleaning the room with just a wave of her blade, but Cas had dissuaded her from doing that all the time, because he didn't want her to have to bear the brunt of all the domestic chores. But, it was a learning curve. Cas was a lot more used to inserting knives into bad guys than he was loading them into household appliances.

There was going to be a lot more cleaning required in a moment, though. Gail brought the knife up and stabbed JD in the neck, slashing across his throat. His tight grip on her windpipe ceased immediately as the knife cut through his carotid artery. In seconds, she was covered in JD's blood, as he slumped to the floor.

Crap! Gail called Cas immediately on their frequency, asking him to go to the bedroom and get her blade, bring it to her in the kitchen, and not to let anyone else into the kitchen, in the meantime.

Cas's forehead wrinkled, but he excused himself from the conversation he'd been having with Bobby and Jody and hurried down the hall to the bedroom, mentally asking Gail what was going on, as he went. She was reluctant to tell him, but now, she asked him to bring Sam and Dean with him, and to put a seal on the kitchen door once they did, so that no other guests could enter.

"What the hell, Gail?!" Dean exclaimed, when they entered the kitchen and saw the gory sight.

"Shhhh!" she hissed at him. "Everyone will hear you!"

"Don't worry. When I shielded the door, I soundproofed it, as well," Cas advised her. He rushed over to where Gail stood. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"No, Cas," she assured him, accepting her blade when he handed it to her. She quickly told the men what had happened, while cleaning herself with her blade.

Sam knelt down beside JD, checking for vital signs. "Is he dead?" Cas asked Sam, and the younger Winchester nodded.

"Good," Cas said, his jaw set. "I'll be right back." He winked out of the room as Gail cleaned the blood off of the knife she'd killed JD with. Then she looked at it and said, "The hell with it," tossing it into the big garbage bag that held the food scraps. As if they would ever use that knife again, anyway.

"Go ahead," she said to Dean glumly. "Say 'I told you so'." She started to shake now, and he put his arms around her. "I'm not gonna say that," Dean said softly, hugging her to him. "I'm sorry, Gail."

Cas came back, with JD's duffel bag. "All of his possessions are in there, including a bottle of rat poison," Cas said darkly. "That was obviously what you saw him put in Frank's drink." He looked down dispassionately at JD's body. "I almost wish he weren't dead, so I could have the pleasure of killing him myself." He looked at the brothers. "Sam, you and I will transport the body to somewhere remote, and bury it. Dean, if you will take his car and abandon it somewhere on a city street with the keys in the ignition, I am sure that someone will take it. Please make certain that nothing can link the car with him, or with us. Then call Bobby when you are done, and he will come to get you. I'm sending him a message right now." Cas handed JD's car keys to Dean, then he took Gail by the shoulders. "Will you be all right, while we're gone? What is our story? How about if we just tell everyone that he got a phone call, and told us that he had to leave? That way, we can seem as mystified as everyone else."

Gail was looking at him in amazement. "Why do I get the feeling that this isn't the first murder you've covered up?" she asked her husband.

"Because it is not," he answered her calmly. "But we don't have the time for that discussion right now. If I can prevail on you to clean up his blood after we leave, we will all meet you back here after our tasks are done. Remember: he got a sudden phone call, and he told us he had to leave. I'm sorry this happened to you, my darling. We'll talk about it more, after we get back and the guests leave. Okay?" He put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her face to his. "Okay?" he said again.

Gail nodded. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. It was time for her to get it together, now. If she wanted to keep what she had just done from the party guests, she would have to do her part. These guys were volunteering to do the hard stuff; all Gail had to do now was play the hostess, and pretend like nothing was wrong. Piece of cake. She'd had more than a little experience in that area, herself.

Cas winked Dean, Sam, JD's body and himself out of the house without another word. Gail checked herself for blood once more, cleaned the kitchen with a wave of her blade, and then pointed it at the kitchen door to remove the seal that Cas had put on it. Then she put on her warmest smile, took a deep breath, and went out to talk to their guests.

Vincent had been walking along the beach, enjoying the cool evening breeze and the sound of the waves, lapping on the shore. He was savouring the serenity. Soon, his daughter and the men would be here, and then the fun would really start. And hopefully, they would have heavy hearts once they arrived. Vincent had planted the seed and watered the garden, encouraging JD to seek his sister out. Then, JD had done the rest. He was ensconced in their home now, and Vincent's son was seething with hatred and jealousy for all of the men in her life. It was the perfect setup. Vincent doubted very much that JD would succeed in killing the biggest fish, Castiel, but surely, a guy who was as experienced in the art of murder as JD was should at least be able to dispatch one of the human men, if he caught them unawares. Maybe they would be a man short on the God Squad, when they came.

But they would come, and their arrival was imminent. Andy was a puppet, but Abigail had not been the puppet master. It was Vincent who had been feeding Abigail the information for the location spell. The spell was legitimate in its own right, but Vincent had his own reasons for having them come the way they were coming, and bringing what they were bringing.

Suddenly, Vincent staggered, and fell to his knees on the sand. JD was dead? Dead? How could THAT have happened? He bellowed up into the night sky, his eyes glowing red. JD had been one of the ones that Vincent had sired who he'd had such high hopes for. Castiel needed distraction, and plenty of it, to keep him away from Vincent. Once they'd brought him the chest, Vincent needed to keep his deadliest enemy running around chasing his own tail while Vincent used the magic they were bringing. JD was supposed to have killed at least one, if not more, of the humans in their circle. If he had succeeded, Vincent had been prepared to reward his son handsomely in the future. But once he had the final ingredients for the spell and was able to resurrect the dead, Vincent might consider calling on him anyway, because there was generally nothing better than a dead man who held a grudge. However, to say that Vincent was disappointed right now would be a major understatement.

As he rose to his feet, though, he felt a searing pain at his temple that almost dropped him to his knees again. He touched the spot where the pain was, and his hand came away bloody. What the hell was THIS, now? He ran over to the lagoon, and this time, he sank to his knees voluntarily, because he just had to see. He snapped his fingers, and the waters calmed immediately. Vincent looked down at his reflection. There was a black mark on his face, like the mark that occurred when something that was burning had been extinguished. He bellowed in anger again. They had burned his son's body?! Castiel and one of the brothers had burned the body. Now JD, or whatever the hell his name had actually been, was lost to Vincent as a future soldier, because even the Book of the Dead could do nothing to restore the dead once they were reduced to ashes.

But, conversely, the Book of Life could. Vincent frowned deeply. He had been prepared to barter with either Raguel or Ammit, if he'd had to, if Vincent found the Book of Life, and one of them found the Book of the Dead. But now, if he hoped to get Jason, JD, and whoever else his enemies might kill in the future back, Vincent would have to take the set of Books for himself. In one of those stupidly arbitrary twists of the ancient rules, the Book of the Dead could be used to resurrect the bodies of the holder's choice to do their bidding, as long as those bodies were buried somewhere in the ground. If an evil entity called them forth, they would automatically do evil things for that individual. But once a body was cremated, the Book of Life was the only tome that would resurrect them. The caveat was that you had to possess the decedent's ashes, or some of their DNA, and the other condition was that the individual in question could choose their own destiny, once revived. Dark, or light. It was their choice.

Vincent took a couple of deep breaths, to calm himself down. This was a setback, only. He had to remain focused. Castiel was playing games with him now. Well, that was fine. Soon, it would be Vincent who was hosting the games. And as for the black mark on Vincent's face, there was a way to remove that, as well. He had been keeping it as an ace up his sleeve, but Castiel liked playing poker, didn't he?

Vincent touched the black mark on his face and closed his eyes, concentrating. Soon, he had the picture. He saw JD poisoning Frank's drink, Gail confronting him about it, and then, to Vincent's astonishment, he saw that his daughter had been the one to dispatch JD. And she had done it so ruthlessly, with no hesitation at all. Despite how angry he'd been, Vincent couldn't help but smile now. Who knew that she had such cold blood running through her veins?

Then, he watched Cas take over, supervising the coverup of the crime. So, Jason had been right; Vincent's son-in-law was obviously no stranger to shady practices, and dirty deeds. That fact alone might endear him to Vincent, if it were not for the fact that they were mortal enemies. It was a real shame, though. Vincent would love to have such a cold, calculating individual on his side. Maybe he should just let Castiel have Gail, and her immortal soul. After all, what was Vincent going to do with it, anyway? But his daughter had gotten her stubborn streak from somewhere, and it certainly hadn't been from mealy-mouthed Abigail. The game was over when Vincent said it was over, and it hadn't even really begun yet. Just because Castiel walked around like he thought he was the Alpha male, that didn't make him so. Vincent knew Cas was no longer God, which in Vincent's mind put them on a level playing field.

He concentrated just a little harder, until he had all of the information: It was Sam Winchester who had suggested that they burn JD's body. The younger brother, who everybody considered to be the smart one. Well, he certainly had been, in this instance. Vincent was a big believer in reciprocity. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. They had put this disfiguring mark on his face, first, by killing his son, and then, by burning his body. So, Vincent was going to have to make sure that mark was erased, by siring an even stronger son. And the four of them were going to help him do it.

SEVEN ISLAND SUITE

1 - THE BAHAMAS - ISLAND TO ISLAND

The morning after the party, Cas and Gail went to the bunker early. The Angels were going to pop down to the Caribbean and wait for the brothers there. Sam and Dean were going to fly down and meet up with them at the hotel. Flying was hardly Dean's favourite mode of transportation, but he'd told Cas he was going to "man up", and do it. If he wanted the steak, he'd have to put up with the vegetables, or some kind of strange analogy like that.

The truth was, Cas had only been half-listening. Once all of the other guests had left the party, the four of them had asked Frank and Jody to stay behind for a few minutes, sending Eric and Rob home with one of the Angels to relieve Angela's babysitter. Then, they had proceeded to tell the couple what had really happened with JD.

"That son of a bitch!" Frank fumed. "And I was gonna drink his stupid drink, too, just to be nice!" He looked at Gail. "Get ready."

"No, Frank, don't," she moaned, as everyone else looked at them, puzzled.

"I'm gonna do the 'I told you so' dance," her brother insisted.

"Dean didn't do that," Gail pointed out.

"That's because he doesn't know the steps," Frank said gleefully, elbowing Dean. "Come on, Buddy, I'll show you. It goes like this: 'I told you so, I told you so'." Frank swung his arms and wiggled his hips, grinning. "And now, for the grand finale," he turned around, shaking his rear end, sticking it out towards his sister. "Now, kiss it."

"Man, you guys are weird," Dean said, shaking his head at the pair and rolling his eyes.

"Next time, I'm just going to let you drink the poison," Gail grumbled. "At least Sam and Dean had the decency not to say that to me. Cas, too."

Fran turned back around. "That's because Sam and Dean are afraid of you. And, Cas knows which side his bread is buttered on." Then he smiled warmly. "Thanks for saving my life, kiddo. So you did a real job on him, huh? Maybe I should be afraid of you, too."

"Maybe you should," Gail muttered darkly, but when Frank opened up his arms for a hug, she moved into them.

They'd all talked for a little while longer, and Jody had asked Gail if she was okay. "I know a little something about the subject," Jody said dryly, "and even if the killing was completely justified, it takes its toll on you. If you ever need anybody to talk to, give me - ow," she said suddenly, touching a hand to her forehead. "Sorry. Tension headache. I get those, sometimes," Jody remarked with a grimace.

Frank and Cas exchanged a quick glance, and then Frank came forward and took Jody's hand. "Cas, can you take us home?" he asked his brother-in-law. "We'll get you some pain pills and put you to bed," he said to Jody, kissing her softly on her head.

"All right, Frank, don't baby me," Jody said sharply, but then she frowned and said, "I'm sorry. Damn headache."

"We'll stay with Gail until you get back," Sam told Cas. Their friend nodded gratefully, and a moment later, he winked Frank and Jody out of the house.

"How ARE you doing? Really?" Sam asked Gail, and she shrugged. "I don't know, Sam," she answered honestly. "I think what's bothering me the most is how he was able to fool me so easily. I thought I was smarter than that. You guys all said he was chicken-wing crazy, but I refused to see it."

Dean's lips twitched at her chicken wing reference, but he said, "Look, Gail, don't be too hard on yourself. You just wanted to believe that you might have just one family member who wasn't batcrap crazy. I get that. And as far as refusing to see it, how about me? That Ammit bitch was wearing my girlfriend for a jumpsuit, and I didn't have one clue about it. Not one. We can all be fooled, sometimes. And sometimes, we fool ourselves."

Gail was looking closely at his face now. With everything that had been going on, she hadn't had the chance to find out how things had gone between Dean and Nicole, or Sam and Quinn. But at some point, Cas or Bobby must have arranged to have the women taken home by one of the Angels, because she didn't see either of them here, did she? Yet both brothers had stayed with Gail, comforting her and supporting her.

"I'm sorry, you guys," she blurted out. "Just one more occasion when me and my crazy-ass family have messed with your relationships. I don't know why you put up with me, sometimes."

"Well, for six months, the law said I had to," Dean quipped. "Now, it's just force of habit."

"And I need an ally in the war against dinosaur music," Sam added lightly.

Gail laughed. "Group hug?" she asked them, and as all three huddled up together, Cas returned. "Oh, group hug," he said happily, and joined in.

After a moment, they all separated, and Sam and Dean had driven home. As it turned out, the murder and its aftermath had sobered Dean up enough to drive.

Cas had helped Gail to clean up the house and then they had gone to bed. He'd held her as she talked about what JD had said before she'd killed him, and then, she finally told Cas about having discovered JD coming out of their room that morning.

Now, she was crying softly. "I'm sorry, Cas. I should have told you. But, it's like Dean said: I just wanted so badly for just one of my stupid relatives not to be batcrap crazy that I turned a blind eye."

Cas held her tighter. "I should have done something," he told her. "I should have confronted him. You did nothing wrong. You were only trying to believe in your brother. And I wanted to believe in him, for your sake." Then he frowned. "Vincent has a lot to answer for. It's obvious he sent JD here to cause harm to our family. Well, that's it. Tomorrow, we will go to the Caribbean, and we will take the fight to him."

Gail had nestled herself into his arms, and she had felt better, because Cas was right. They were finally going to be proactive about Vincent.

The only problem was, when they got to the bunker to retrieve the chest, Sam was shaking his head. "You guys, we've got a snag," he told them.

"What's that, Sam?" Cas asked their friend.

"I've been looking and looking, and I can't find a beach in the Caribbean with black sands," Sam said, gesturing to his laptop in frustration. "We've got white sands, brown sands, sandy sands, and even pink and green sands. But, no black."

"Well, they have to be there, somewhere," Gail insisted. "Otherwise, what would be the point to all of this?"

They were all silent for a minute, and then Dean said, "I vote we go, anyway. We can just find 'em when we're down there."

"Oh. Yeah. Right," Gail said skeptically. "How many islands are in the Caribbean, Sam? How many beaches?"

"So what?" Dean said stubbornly. "How many times have we gone somewhere, not really knowing what the hell we were doing?"

"If we were running a business, I would say that would be the world's worst slogan for it," Sam said with a half-grin. "But, you know something? Dean's right. Let's just go down there, and see what happens. We'll find a way. We always do."

Gail and Cas looked at each other, and she sighed. "Okay. Where do you want to start?"

"I've always wanted to go to the Bahamas," Sam said eagerly. "Why don't we start there?"

So it was agreed that all four of them would fly to the Bahamas, and begin their search. Since they didn't yet know exactly where they were supposed to take the chest, they simply left it in the storeroom of the bunker. But first, the urn with the ashes was taken out of the safe. Sam placed it in the middle of the library table, and Cas took out his blade.

"I'm sorry, my darling," Cas said to Gail, and she sighed. "I know, Cas. I'm getting used to it by now. Which is a really pathetic thing to say, when you think about it."

"I'll be as quick and as gentle as I can," her husband told her. Gail extended her hand to him, and Cas pricked her finger with the tip of his blade. Sam lifted the lid of the urn and Cas tilted Gail's hand over it so that the blood would drip into it. They counted off seven drops, and then Cas covered Gail's hand with his, healing her instantly.

"OK, now we'll be ready, as soon as we find out where to take the chest," Sam said, locking the urn back up in the safe.

Dean came into the library area from the hallway. "How's Nicole?" Cas asked him, and Dean gave his friend a look.

"Who says I was talking to Nicole?" he asked evasively.

"You've been hanging around with Angels too long, dude," Sam said, grinning. "Never a straight answer."

"So, are we getting this show on the road, or what?" Dean said, changing the subject quickly.

Gail held up her hand. "Hold on a minute," she said, and then she looked at Sam. "Exactly how tropical IS it, down there?"

"Pretty tropical," he told her. "Here. Look." He opened up his laptop and beckoned to her. She moved closer, peering at the screen. If it weren't for the heat, she thought, it would be absolutely beautiful there. Blue/green water, sandy beaches, lots of palm trees. She saw a picture of a large hotel that fronted the beach. "Are we staying there?" she said, pointing to the screen.

"Yep," Sam said, smiling. "That's the good news. Now, do you want the bad news?"

Gail let out a breath. "How hot is it going to be, Sam?" she said wearily.

"Average of ninety degrees, with high humidity," he told her.

"Hey, look on the bright side," Dean piped up. "That's still ten degrees cooler than Arizona. And there's a whole ocean for me to throw you into, if you get hot."

"Oh, har, har, har," she said tartly. "You'll be sorry when I get bitten by a shark, or something."

"There won't be any sharks there," Dean scoffed, but then, he looked uneasy. "Will there?" he asked Sam.

"Not that close to the beach," Sam assured them.

Still, Gail was thinking now. "You know, I hate to go all girly on you, but do you think we could delay leaving until tomorrow? If we don't know exactly how long we're going to be down there, I think I should buy a few more summer clothes, and maybe a bathing suit." She gave Cas a small smile. "Maybe you can even teach me how to swim."

"I can, if you wish, but I would much rather rescue you," he said charmingly.

"Let me borrow your phone," Gail said, holding out her hand. "I'm going to call Jody, and find out if she wants to come." The couple exchanged a look. Cas had told his wife the night before about the strangely ominous vision he'd had when he had searched Jody's mind, and Gail had that in the back of her own mind now. Maybe, if she could get Jody alone, she could persuade her sister-in-law to confide in her.

"Hey, Gail, we could stay in Cooper's Town," Dean said, nudging her. She turned around. He was pointing at the computer screen. Sam had switched to an overview of the Caribbean islands, and he'd zoomed in on a map of the Bahamas.

"Cooperstown?" Gail said, puzzled. "The Baseball Hall of Fame?"

Sam laughed. "It's 'Cooper's Town', not Cooperstown," he said, and Gail's lips twitched. "I feel an Abbott and Costello moment coming on," she quipped.

"Some of these names are really weird," Dean was saying now. "Rum Cay, Cat Island...Look, Sammy. Devil's Point." He grinned at Cas. "Maybe we should stay THERE."

"Actually, you could have a point, Dean," Cas mused, as he put his cell phone in Gail's hand. "That would be just the sort of name that would amuse Vincent."

As the men continued to talk, Gail pressed the Speed Dial for Frank and Jody's place on Cas's phone.

Jody answered. "How's your head feeling today?" Gail asked her.

"My head?" Jody inquired in a bewildered tone. "Fine. Why do you ask?" Then she laughed. "Oh, are you asking if I'm hung over? Nahhhh. Your brother, on the other hand, is a lightweight. He's nursing his first coffee of the day right now, mumbling about going back to bed."

"How about you?" Gail persisted. "Do you feel like going shopping?" She told Jody what she had in mind, and her sister-in-law said, "Why not? But, do you mind coming to get me the Angel way? I've got somewhere to be later on, and your way will be faster."

Gail told Jody she would pick her up in just a couple of minutes, and then she gave Cas his phone back. He was already reaching into his wallet. He handed her a bank card as the Winchesters looked on in surprise. She saw the way they were looking at her. "Cas doesn't like me to carry a lot of cash if I'm not with him," Gail stated, and the brothers burst out laughing. They'd both seen her take her blade and carve guys twice her size up like Christmas turkeys, but Cas was afraid of her getting mugged? Okie-dokie. And Lord help the man who tried to mug both Gail and Jody together. The poor guy wouldn't stand a snowball's chance.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, giving Cas a kiss on the cheek. "Are you going to hang around here with the guys for a while?"

"I suppose so," Cas said, shrugging.

"You can do us a favour," Dean told Cas. "Since we're all gonna be flying, we won't be able to get any weapons past security. You can pop down there, get a room, and take some stuff with you, so it'll be waiting for us there, when we get there."

Cas brightened. "That's an excellent idea."

"OK, I'll see you guys later," Gail said, smiling. "Have fun with your weapons." Then she popped out.

Gail and Jody were browsing casually through the summer clothes, and Gail was pleasantly surprised by the prices. Summer was winding down now, and the fall clothes were already coming out.

"How long do you think you're going to be gone?" Jody asked her sister-in-law.

Gail had moved on to the bathing suit section now, and the expression on her face was comical as she looked at how little material she had to work with. "Yikes," she remarked, holding up a hanger with a bathing suit dangling from it. "If I wanted floss, I'd go to the dentist."

Jody was smirking now. Apparently, it didn't matter if you were a human, or an Angel; if you were a woman, the horror of trying on bathing suits was universal.

"Sorry, Jody. I got distracted," Gail apologized, moving on to the bigger sizes. "I really don't know, to answer your question. The mission seems fairly simple, but then again, when is anything ever simple for us?"

"What if you do find him, or the others?" Jody went on. "What's the plan?"

Gail laughed shortly. "Plan? We HAVE no plan. That's the plan."

Jody nodded. She actually understood that. She'd been along on a couple of those Tablet missions. "Just do me a favour, and get home as quickly and safely as you can, OK?" she said to Gail.

Gail stopped what she'd been doing and looked her sister-in-law in the eye. "OK, Jody. Is there something you want to tell me?" she said bluntly.

"Is that you asking, or my husband?" Jody asked sharply. "Or, is it Cas? Tell him to go back and play some more cards. His poker face needs work."

Gail sighed. "Frank's just worried about you. The question is: should he be?"

"I don't know yet," Jody said in a more subdued tone. "Maybe. I went to see..." She broke off her sentence, looking off into space. For a weird minute, all she did was stand there, looking puzzled. "I went to see..." she started again, and again, she stopped. "What's her name?" Jody said softly. Then, she looked at Gail. "Tell your brother that the next time he decides to send a spy, he should send a better one. Now, are we trying on clothes, or what?"

Gail had been preoccupied the rest of that day, and she was still thinking about it during their flight to the Bahamas the next morning. She'd told Cas about the conversation when they were alone, and he'd thought it was odd, too. But they really didn't have any time to do anything about it right now.

They took a cab to their hotel once they'd landed at the airport and gotten their bags. The temperature was very hot, but Gail had been mentally prepared for it; plus, the beautiful scenery was helping to keep her entranced for the moment.

Dean was beyond excited. "This is it, Sammy," he kept saying. "Finally, after all these years. Toes in the sand. I even bought flip-flops."

Gail couldn't help but smile. He was just like a little kid at Christmas. So was Sam, although he was acting a little calmer about it. He was grinning from ear to ear, though, especially when they pulled up in front of the jotel. "Look at that water," he marveled. "I can't wait to go for a swim."

Cas refrained from speaking. Even though he was anxious to track down Vincent, he didn't have the heart to throw cold water on his friends' excitement. They still had to find out where the black sands beach was, so he saw no reason they could not combine business with a little pleasure.

But strangely, when they got to the front desk to check the Winchesters in, the clerk had an envelope for Cas, in the mail slot for the room he had already reserved for himself and Gail the day before. He opened it.

"What's it say, Cas?" Sam asked him.

Cas frowned. "It says that the four of us should go out to the beach, and someone will come to us with further instructions."

"What? Lemme see that," Dean said, snatching it out of Cas's hands. He scanned it quickly. "Yep. That's what it says," he confirmed.

"You know, I learned how to read at a very young age," Cas said coolly, and Gail laughed. "Who's the note FROM?" she asked curiously.

"It doesn't say," Cas said, his forehead wrinkling. This turn of events was very disturbing to him.

"OK, well, we were gonna go to the beach, anyway," Dean said, taking Cas by the arms and propelling him forward. "Let's get up to our rooms and change. Meet you back down here in five."

"Make it ten," Gail called after him. "I have a tiny bathing suit to try to put on."

"There you go, Buddy," Dean said to Cas happily. "Sam is looking forward to a swim, I'm looking forward to a lounge chair and a cold beer, and now you have something to look forward to, too." He elbowed Cas in the ribs. "A wife with a tiny bathing suit. You lucky bastard."

Gail changed in the washroom of their hotel room, and when she felt that she was about as decently covered as the bathing suit would allow, she put on a cover-up, and sandals. Then she came out to the bedroom area. Cas was out on the terrace, turning his face up to the sun.

She walked out to join him, looking down at the spectacular view. They could see the beach and the ocean, stretching out as far as their eyes could see. "Wow," Gail commented. "That's quite a view."

"It is, isn't it?" Cas agreed. He took a deep breath. "There's nothing quite like ocean air." He stood there for a moment, then took her hand. "Are you ready to go, my love?"

"Sure, I guess so," she said hesitantly.

Cas's lips twitched. He knew his wife very well. His eyes flickered down to look at her torso. "How tiny IS it?" he asked her, with humour in his voice.

Gail grimaced. "Pretty tiny."

"Well then, by all means, let's go," Cas said, smiling, and giving her hand a squeeze.

They'd been sitting on chairs on the beach for a while, but so far, no one had approached them.

Sam had gone for a swim the instant they'd gotten situated, and he was back now, toweling off and raving about how warm and clear the water was.

Dean had sat down in a deck chair that had a cupholder built into the arm, and much to his delight, Cas jumped up and offered to get everyone a round of cold drinks. He'd come back a couple of minutes later holding four bottles by their necks; a beer for each of the men, and a cooler for Gail.

As Cas sat back down, Dean proposed a toast, to his and Sam's first tropical vacation ever, and the four of them clinked bottles and drank. Then, Dean eased his feet out of his flip-flops and dug his toes in the sand, as he and Sam drank another silent toast together.

But, a moment later, Dean yelped. "Ow! That's friggin' HOT!" he exclaimed, and his feet went back in the flip-flops.

Gail laughed, and Dean threw her a baleful glance. She was stretched out on a chaise lounge, with her sandals still on her feet, and still wearing her cover-up.

"So, Mrs. Buzzkill, are we gonna see this alleged tiny bathing suit, or what?" Dean taunted her.

Gail considered that. She looked around the beach at all the other women. She supposed she was being pretty silly. They were all dressed like she was, sans the coverup. She'd just never showed this much skin in public, before. "OK. OK," she said, and she stood from her chair and removed the cover-up.

Sam's jaw dropped. Holy moly. He should not be looking, he told himself, but...holy moly. It was gonna take him a second. "You look very nice," he mumbled, and then he looked away quickly.

Aw, geez, Dean thought. Gail was nearly naked! His first instinct was to tell her to put the cover-up back on, but he knew enough about women to know that those would likely be the last words he would ever utter as a living, breathing individual. But then, he checked himself. She was dressed the same as every other woman here. So if it was okay for them, why shouldn't it be okay for her? But, man, it was gonna take a little getting used to. It was like discovering for the first time that your sister had boobs, or something.

Dean wondered what Cas was thinking. He looked at his friend, grateful to have someplace else to look. Cas was staring at Gail with his mouth gaping open.

"What do you think, sweetie?" Gail asked Cas now. "How do I look?"

Dean continued to watch Cas. OK, this could get interesting. Cas could go a couple of different ways, here. But he'd better say something, and soon, because Gail's look was already starting to darken.

Suddenly, a man passed by where they were all sitting, and he gave Gail a long wolf whistle. He kept going, and Gail looked after him, smiling. "Thanks," she said softly, but then when she turned back to her group, she shook her head vigorously. "I mean...hey! Don't objectify me like that!" she amended, trying to sound as if she'd been offended.

Sam and Dean laughed, but Cas was frowning now. "I think you look beautiful," he told her, "but, that man is fortunate he's no longer in our vicinity."

Now, Gail laughed. "Thank you, sweetie." Nothing said love more than an angry Cas, wanting to punch some guy out for her. She stretched her arms out at her sides and said, "Well, I'm hot. I think I'm going to go and dip my feet in the water." She looked out towards the ocean, and then back at Cas. "Don't worry, though. I'll stay where it's shallow." She kicked her sandals off and then started walking towards the water, as Cas stared after her.

Dean poked Sam. "I don't think THAT'S what he's worried about," he said to his brother gleefully.

Cas stood quickly from his chair. "I'll come with you," he called after her. He took his shirt off, and then his pants, and the Winchesters were both amused and relieved to see that he had a bathing suit on underneath. He hurried to catch up with Gail.

"Boy, those two are fun, sometimes," Dean remarked, taking another drink of his beer. Then he looked sideways at Sam. "You gonna be OK, there, Champ?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Dean. I just...didn't expect that, that's all," Sam replied uncomfortably.

Dean was smirking now. "Just remember, the eyes are up here," he said, motioning. "And if Cas catches you looking, deny, deny, deny."

Sam laughed. He couldn't help it. "Shut up, Dean," he said good-naturedly.

Cas and Gail frolicked in the water for a while, and then they came back to sit with their friends. Just as Cas had been looking at Gail with appreciation, Gail had been looking at her husband the same way. He looked tanned and muscular as he sat back down in his chair and lifted his face to the sun again. She'd seen women looking at him, and she couldn't blame them. He was the sexiest man here. Then again, to her, he was the sexiest man anywhere.

Cas saw his wife looking at him, and he smiled at her. She had no idea how cute she was, and it seemed that she was oblivious to the fact that other men were staring at her, admiring her. He was trying not to feel jealous about that fact, but it was difficult. Many times, the shoe had been on the other foot. Quite often, Gail had teased Cas about other women looking at him with admiration, and he had to admit that he was aware that many times she had been right. But, that meant nothing to him. Aesthetic beauty was all very well and good, but when he looked at Gail, he saw so much more than just what was on the surface. Having said that, though, it was a strange experience for him to realize how she'd been feeling all this time, when others had regarded Cas that way.

"I'm a lucky man," he blurted out, and Gail smiled, looking at him. But instead of returning the compliment, she said, "Yes. Yes, you are," and then she laughed. She was so cute.

"I'm checking local websites, and I still can't find any places with black sands anywhere," Sam said. Incredibly, he had his cell phone in his hand, and he was squinting at the screen.

Just as Dean was rolling his eyes and preparing a sarcastic comment about nerding up their beach day, a drinks server said from behind them, "That's because there aren't any, not that I know of."

They turned to look up at her, and she looked down at Cas. "A gentleman at the bar asked me to bring you all a round of drinks," she said, holding the bottles out for him to pass around. "And, this message," she added. She reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him.

"How much do we owe you for the drinks?" Dean asked the server, but she shook her head. "It's already been taken care of, Sir." Then she walked away.

Cas ripped open the envelope. "'Enjoy your evening'," he read out loud. "'Go to Barbados tomorrow'."

They all looked at each other, mystified. What was going on here?

"What the hell is this, now?" Gail said. She was growing irritable. "Are we just supposed to do it, because the note says so?"

Cas was thinking the same thing, but he said, "I see little alternative, at this point."

"Is this Vincent being a dick, or is it somebody else, somebody who's trying to help us?" Dean speculated aloud.

"Maybe it's Ammit," Sam conjectured, and they all looked at him. "Cas, didn't you say that she agreed to help you with Raguel and Vincent? So, maybe it's her, trying to point us in the right direction."

"Then why does she not simply appear?" Cas said, and he was starting to feel annoyed now, too. "Why the run-around?"

"Weren't you gonna roast her, in Heaven?" Dean said bluntly. "If I were her, I probably wouldn't show my ugly Demon face around us, either," he pointed out. Dean had a personal score to settle with Ammit. Now, he really hoped it was her who was leaving the notes. If they could manage to kill all three of those sons of bitches here, he would officially pronounce this the best vacation ever.

Cas had to admit that Dean had a point, there. It was pretty likely that Ammit knew he was gunning for her, too, in addition to the others. If Cas were her, and if he wanted Raguel and Vincent removed from the equasion while protecting himself, this was probably exactly how he would do it.

"Barbados," Sam said out loud, looking at his cell phone. "I'm going to have to do some more digging, but I Googled black sands there too, and I didn't get a match. It's fairly far from here, but if we hire a plane and a pilot, we could be there in three hours."

"OK, Sammy, cool," Dean said. "Now put the phone away, and let's have another toast."

"Yeah, in just a second, Dean. I just want to check a couple more sites," Sam said, holding his free hand up in a halting gesture.

Dean's face fell, and Cas shook his head slowly. "We're too dependent on technology, these days," the Angel remarked quietly.

"Yeah, some of us more than others," Dean said, frowning. He glared at Sam, but his expression was lost on his brother, who was still looking at his phone.

"I can remember back at the Beginning, when I used to wander the desert and the fields, with only my sheep and the stars for company," Cas went on. "There is something that's just so...pure about that type of existence."

Gail smiled at her husband. She'd often wished that she could have been with him back then. There was a lot to be said for the type of peaceful existence he was describing. What would that have been like? Just the two of them, moving from place to place. Laughing, talking, and loving. No enemies, no fighting, and no death. Wow. It was enough to make her want to find that Book of Life herself, and rip out a few pages.

"Did you hear that, Sammy?" Dean asked his brother, trying to get Sam's attention. "Stars, and sheep. No Facebook, Twitter, or Google."

"Just a lot of baaaad reception," Gail quipped. "Plus, your calendar function would be virtually useless, 'cause there wouldn't be anything on it. You know, Dawn of Time, and all that?"

Cas and Dean gave her an obligatory smile. OK, maybe that hadn't been her best work. But Sam hadn't even looked up.

"Okay, that does it," Gail said in exasperation. "Nobody ignores my jokes, no matter how lame they might be." She sprang to her feet. "Get ready to feel like a shepherd." She stalked over to Sam and snatched his phone out of his hand. Then she turned towards the water and brought her arm back, pretending to hurl it into the ocean. Sam panicked for a split second, and then he noticed that it was still in her hand.

"Psych," Gail said, grinning. "Made you look." She glanced at the phone screen. "Take a hike, Google. I'm confiscating this. You'll get it back at suppertime," she told Sam.

"Up top," Dean said, offering her a high-five. "I'd hug you, but the way you're not-dressed, I'm afraid Cas would slug me."

"You wouldn't do that, would you, sweetie?" Gail said, slapping Dean's palm.

"I might," Cas said mildly, his lips twitching.

Gail brandished the phone at Sam. "I'm gonna go bury this in the sand, and then I'll be right back," she told him, and then she walked off with it in her hand.

Sam looked alarmed. "She wouldn't really do that, would she?" he asked Cas. But Cas wasn't paying attention to his friend, because he was craning his neck to see where Gail was going.

"Geez, Cas, quit ogling your own wife," Dean said, poking him. "Normal guys look at OTHER women."

"Is that so, Dean?" Cas said idly, but he was still looking for Gail. He'd lost her in the crowd, but before he had the chance to become concerned, she was back. "I went to the bar and asked the server to bring us another round," she told the men. "But you'll have to pay her when she gets here, Dean. As you can see, I have no place to keep money, at the moment."

"No, I can't see, because I'm not looking," Dean said quickly, making Gail laugh.

"Hey, where's my phone?" Sam asked her. She no longer had it in her hand, and as she had pointed out, there was absolutely nowhere else she could be keeping it at the moment. Not that he was looking.

"I told you. I buried it," Gail said pertly.

Sam shook his head slowly. Yeah, sure. Sure she had. She'd probably just popped it upstairs to her and Cas's room, to teach him a lesson.

The server came with the drinks, and Dean paid her, tipping her generously. "Wow," Gail remarked. "Dean must be having a really good time. He didn't even complain about having to take his wallet out."

"Keep it up, nearly-naked lady," Dean said cheerfully. "I have absolutely no problem dumping you in the ocean."

The four of them chatted and bantered back and forth for a while, and then, some younger men came by and told the group that they were starting a volleyball game a little further down the beach. Would any of them like to play?

"Sure, that sounds great," Sam enthused. "Come on, you guys. It'll be fun."

But as soon as he stood up, the young men stretched their necks skyward, and they said, "Dude! What are you, like, eight feet tall? Sorry, man. Unfair advantage."

Cas stood up next. "I'll play," he offered, and the boys nodded. "Sure. Good." Then they looked at Gail. "What about you?" they asked her. "We can always use a few more girls."

She shrugged. "I may not be very good, but I'll give it a try. What the hell?" But then she stood, and the boys exchanged glances. "Uhhhh, we hate to tell you this, but you have to be at least this tall to ride the ride," one of them said, motioning to his chest.

"Picky, picky," Gail said good-naturedly. She poked Dean. "You and Cas play, then. Me and Sam will watch."

Somewhat surprisingly, Dean agreed to play, although the young men looked at him a bit suspiciously when he stood to his full height. The four grabbed their belongings and traipsed down the beach to where the net was being set up. Gail took Cas's shirt and pants from him and folded them in her lap, and Dean stripped off his T-shirt, dropping it on the sand. He and Cas went out to play, and they were assigned to opposite teams. After a few minutes' time, Dean had maneuvered himself to the front of the net, and he began spiking the ball. Then, Cas rotated to the front on the other side, and Dean called a time-out, smirking.

"Rotate one of the girls to the front spot, opposite him," Dean advised his team captain, indicating Cas. "No way he's spiking on a woman."

"I'm both impressed by, and disgusted with, your brother right now, all at the same time," Gail quipped to Sam, and they laughed.

"You know what? Dean's surprisingly good," Sam remarked, "considering I've never seen him do anything more athletic than wield a monkey wrench."

Gail was watching Cas now, and unfortunately for her husband's team, Dean had had Cas's number. As soon as they followed the strategy Dean was suggesting, Cas eased up, and Dean's team started pulling ahead.

When the game was over and Dean's team had won, handshakes were exchanged, and Dean and Cas came over to where Gail and Sam were sitting.

"I'm sorry, my love," Cas said to Gail. "I hope you weren't bored."

"No, not at all," she assured him. "I enjoyed watching you play. I had no idea you were so good. Not that I should be surprised, really. You're good at everything."

"What about me?" Dean said, pulling his T-shirt back on.

"You? You suck!" she told him.

"What? No, I don't. I'm good," Dean protested.

"I'm not talking about the way you play, I'm talking about your underhanded tactics," she pointed out, but Dean merely shrugged. "Hey, winning isn't the important thing, it's the only thing," Dean said, smirking.

"Well, I hope my team weren't too disappointed in the outcome, but I had fun," Cas said, taking Gail's hand.

"All that exercise made me hungry," Dean announced. "What do you say we all go upstairs for a shower to wash the sand out of our wazoos, and then we can meet in the dining room in, what? Half an hour?"

"Our wazoos?" Gail said, laughing.

"Yeah. Especially you," Dean retorted. "You've been walking around naked all day."

Gail rolled her eyes, but she put her cover-up on as they started walking back to the hotel. "There. Better?" she asked him.

"Can I get my phone back, now?" Sam asked Gail, nudging her gently. "I've been good."

She stopped in her tracks. "Oh, my God."

"What?" Sam asked her.

"I can't remember where I buried it!" she exclaimed, looking around wildly. "Let's see; we were over there, right?"

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me with this?"

"No," she said in a small voice. "No, I'm not, Sam. I thought it would be funny. But, I forget where I put it, now!"

Gail was panicked now. She couldn't remember exactly where they'd been sitting. She'd walked about ten paces behind their location and buried the phone, thinking it would be a great joke. Oh, geez. Oh, crap.

"Relax," Dean said calmly. "All we have to do is call it, and listen for the ringtone. Do you have your phone, Cas?"

"Yes, I do," Cas replied, reaching into his pants pocket. He had gotten dressed as soon as he and Dean had finished playing volleyball, but he'd left his shirt open.

"Gail, can't you just remember where you put it? Please?" Sam was pleading with her now.

But she was looking around, bewildered. "No, Sam. I truly can't remember," she said, agitated. "I'm sorry. I thought it would be funny," she said again.

"It's all right, Sam," Cas said. "I'm calling it now."

They all listened intently, but all they heard was the sound of the surf, the breeze, and the occasional tourist, although there were fewer people around now as the hour became later.

"Well, I guess that's it," Sam said, sighing. "I guess I'll just have to get another phone."

But then suddenly, they heard it. It was faint at first, but as they moved towards the sound, the song became more audible. And then, to Sam's horror, the song became identifiable.

Dean looked at his brother, open-mouthed. "Is that your phone?"

Sam looked nauseous as Dean's face screwed up into a perfect expression of disgust. "Is that - ?" No, he couldn't say it. He couldn't even think it. Sam's ringtone was the lamest, cheesiest, most candy-ass pop song that Dean had ever had the misfortune to hear. He stared at his little brother. "What the hell, Sammy? What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed. "You have got to be freaking kidding me!"

Sam sank to his knees, digging in the sand. "I was just fooling around one day, trying to change my ringtone," he stammered, "and I accidentally put that on there. Then, I couldn't figure out how to get rid of it," he added, rather lamely.

"You couldn't figure out how to get rid of it," Dean said, his voice laden with sarcasm. "The guy who can find anything on the computer, in a matter of seconds. The guy who can hack pretty much anybody, even the Pentagon, couldn't figure out how to get a ringtone off his phone?"

Gail was dancing to the song as Sam pulled the phone out of the sand. He shut off the phone and glared at her, and she stopped dancing abruptly. Oh, crap. Well, this whole thing was her fault, so she'd better try to fix it.

"I did it," Gail said, falling on her metaphorical sword. "I put that ringtone on there as a joke, and then I buried the phone so you would think that that was Sam's ringtone. Pretty funny, eh?"

Dean was looking suspicious again. "YOU put that on there? The woman who knows next to nothing about cell phones? The person who doesn't even know how to take a picture with a cell phone? You?" he said skeptically.

"I helped her do it," Cas said quickly.

Now Dean was looking at all three of them, back and forth and back again. They were all silent, with innocent expressions on their faces. Finally, Dean smiled, shaking his head. "Good one, Mrs. Buzzkill. You really had me going there, for a minute. Now go put some clothes on, and we'll see you guys in the restaurant soon."

Sam flashed Gail a grateful smile, and the four of them headed back to their hotel.

Since they had the rest of the night to spend there before moving on to Barbados in the morning, Sam and Dean suggested they all drop by the resort's casino for a couple of hours. Cas and Gail looked at each other. Why not? The sun was setting over the horizon now as they walked to the place, which was located at the other end of the resort.

Gail had had another surprise in store for Cas. When they had gotten upstairs from the beach, she had taken her bag into the bathroom with her when she went in for her shower. A short time later, she had come out wearing a flower-patterned sundress.

Cas had been sitting at the table by the open terrace, patiently waiting his turn for the shower. He stood from his chair as she emerged, smiling gently at her. "You look beautiful," he told her.

Gail answered his smile. She had been undecided when she'd first tried it on, but now she was glad that she'd bought it. Cas liked to see her in a dress once in a while, and she always enjoyed the way his face lit up when he saw her in one.

"I'll be quick," he'd told her, and she had gone out onto the terrace to wait. It was still balmy outside, but as the sun crept lower on the horizon, the temperature cooled a little, affording her a bit of relief.

The Angels had gone along to dinner with the Winchesters merely to be sociable, although Cas did order Gail a glass of wine. Once they'd decided to go to the casino, Dean had remarked that he'd always wanted to try Craps, and Sam had launched into a very detailed and confusing explanation of the game, when Gail had advised that she didn't understand it.

Sam was still trying to explain it when the quartet entered the casino, but Gail still wasn't getting it. "I'll tell you what," he said. "Why don't we just go to the Craps table, and you can watch for a few minutes? It'll probably be much easier for you to get, once you've seen the game being played."

She shrugged. Okie-dokie. So all four of them proceeded to the Craps table and watched for a bit, but Gail was getting even more confused now. Cas and Dean made a few conservative bets, and the croupier passed the dice to Gail. She looked at him quizzically.

"You're supposed to toss them," Sam said, trying to keep a straight face.

Oh. Right. Of course. Gail shook the dice in her hand a couple of times, and then she rolled them onto the green felt of the table, as if she were playing a board game.

"No roll," the croupier said tonelessly. He scooped up the dice, which had gone all of six inches down the table from where Gail was. "The roll must cross this line," he told her, indicating the spot, which was about two-thirds of the way down the table.

"Oh," Gail said. "Sorry."

"Heave 'em down there," Dean exhorted her, smirking. She was a little annoyed now. It wasn't as if she'd ever played the game before. So, she gripped the dice tighter and then flung them down the table. But, in the kind of freaky bounce that could only happen to her, one die flew into a man's drink, and the other caught the lip of the table and flew straight up, hitting the croupier in the face.

Gail was mortified. Most of the players were cigar-smoking men, who were looking at her as if she was the dumbest, ditsiest female in the world, and the croupier was glaring at her now. "I'm sorry," she said to him sheepishly, and he said nothing for a moment. Then he adjusted his eyeglasses back to sit on the bridge of his nose, and looked down at her through them.

"Perhaps Madame would be happier playing one of our several hundred other games of chance," he said huffily, passing new dice to another player.

Aw, geez. Now Gail felt completely humiliated. She could see Cas's jaw set, and he was looking like he was about to challenge the croupier to a duel, or something. But she grabbed Cas's sleeve, tugging on it. "Let's go, sweetie."

Cas allowed her to lead him away from the table, and Sam and Dean trailed behind, laughing.

"Would Madame like to pop back to her hotel room and get her blade?" Dean said, and Sam chipped in, "Considering the look on your face right now, I think that guy was the one who was playing a game of chance!"

Gail was trying to stay mad, but she was starting to smile now. She couldn't help it. What a funny story that was going to be, when they got back home.

"Oh, hey, look at that," Dean said, tapping her on the shoulder. "That machine looks foolproof. They must lose a ton on that one."

She looked to where he was pointing. It was a weird-looking thing. As they drew near, they could see through the glass casing of the machine that there were piles and piles of quarters sitting on a flat surface. The surface was moving slowly back and forth, and a separate mechanism appeared to be slowly pushing the quarters toward the edge, where there was a chute that led down to an opening on the side of the machine.

"Look at all those quarters, just waiting to fall," Dean enthused.

"What are you supposed to do, here?" Cas asked Dean as he wrinkled his forehead, examining the machine.

"I think you just take a quarter, and - here, let me show you." Dean fished around in his pants pocket and pulled out a couple of coins. He stuck one in the slot. "And..." Nothing happened. He put the other one in. Same result. Dean's face fell. A couple of dozen quarters appeared to be perched precariously on the edge where the chute was, yet none of them dropped.

"That's a sucker machine," Sam pronounced. "I'm not sure what the physics are, exactly, but it's obviously rigged to look a lot more tantalizing than the reality of it is. Maybe they use magnets, or something."

Dean frowned. "Who are you calling a sucker?" He checked his pockets again, but he had no change left. "Hey, Cas, give me a quarter." Cas obligingly handed him the coin, and Dean put it in the machine. There was movement, and then they heard a clinking sound in the chute.

Dean looked smugly at his brother. "Who's the sucker now?"

Sam smirked. "I believe that would still be you." He reached into the chute and pulled out one quarter. "You just spent seventy-five cents to get this quarter. You're a casino owner's dream."

"Give me that," Dean said, his expression darkening.

"Nope. It's Cas's," Sam said, handing the coin to their friend.

"Perhaps this machine is faulty," Cas said diplomatically, trying to make Dean feel better. "Maybe we can try another one."

"I know what you should try," Gail said, nudging her husband. "Look. Over there."

It was one of those machines that was filled with plush stuffed toys. The person who played it would pay for the privilege of wielding a giant claw, just like a crane, to grab the stuffed animal. On the surface, the game looked easy enough, but there must be a catch to it, too, Gail thought. Actually, what she was really thinking was that a casino was an odd place for a machine full of toys, but, whatever. They might as well try it.

So Cas walked over to it, with the others following. "Look; it only costs a dollar to play," Gail pointed out.

"Too rich for my blood," Dean joked. He had been considering saying something about looking for a more manly game to play, but Cas was walking around the machine now, examining its contents. "I was hoping to win you a wife for Ralph, but I don't see any penguins in here," he said to Gail, smiling gently.

"That's OK; I know which one I want," she told him. "That one." She pointed to a stuffed elephant.

Cas's smile grew, and he nodded. "I'll try for that one, then."

It was harder than it looked, but on his second try, Cas was able to grab the prize, and he swore to the others that he hadn't used any Angel mojo to do it. As they walked away from the machine, Cas handed the plush toy to Gail, and she gave it a squeeze.

"What are you gonna name him?" Sam asked her affably. "Or her, as the case may be."

"I'm not," Gail replied. "Angela is. I'm giving it to her. It's her dad's word, right? That way, she can have a little Ralph, or whatever, of her own."

Cas smiled warmly at his wife. He'd thought that was what she'd had in mind. His heart filled with love for her. He could already picture little Angela spending many happy hours playing with her new friend.

"Let's go play some cards," Dean suggested, and Cas looked at Gail, who shrugged. "Sure, sweetie," she said. "You haven't played in a long time."

"Well, that's not entirely true," he remarked. "During our hellatus, I played fairly often, just to have something to do."

"During your what?" Dean asked, puzzled.

"Our hellatus," Cas repeated. "Nicole taught me that word. She said that fans of the Supernatural TV show used to use that term when the show was on a break. It's a hybrid of the words 'hiatus' and 'hell'. I thought it was funny. And it was certainly apropos of our situation." He put his arm around Gail. "We were on a break, and it was hell."

"It sure was," Gail agreed. She snuggled up to Cas, her lips twitching furiously. "And that guy I was married to? What a loser. I can't seem to remember his name. Dan? Dave?"

Dean made a face. "Okay, Mrs. Smartass. Why don't you go play some other game of chance, while us men go play cards?"

"Maybe we should take your new friend with us," Sam joked, gesturing to the elephant. "He could remember the cards that have already been dealt."

Gail looked at him blankly, and then she started to smile. "That wasn't bad, actually," she told Sam. "It just took me a minute."

"That's a fallacy," Cas remarked, as Dean looked at him curiously. "Elephants' memories are no better than any other creatures'," Cas continued. "They have a modicum of cleverness, but they are also quite skittish, considering their size."

Dean let out a breath. Now he realized what Cas had been getting at. Fallacy. Oh. Oh, brother. Why didn't Cas just use normal words, like everybody else? Sometimes, it was like having two Sams around. "OK, let's go, already," he said impatiently. "Let's leave the zoology for another time."

"Wow, you must really be anxious to gamble," Gail quipped. "Not even one 'fallacy' joke, eh? I don't know if I'm relieved, or disappointed."

"Maybe I'm just more mature than that," Dean retorted.

"Yeah, no, that can't be it," Gail said, shaking her head. She stretched up to kiss Cas on the cheek. "OK, go. Win us a bunch. These guys eat a ton." She motioned with the elephant. Then she turned around and walked away. Cas had already given her some money at the Craps table, and she had it in the little purse that she'd bought to go with the dress she was wearing. Boy, sometimes it was a pain, being a woman. Dresses, shoes, accessories...she was much happier just sticking to jeans, and a simple top.

"Come on, Elephant To Be Named Later," she said to the stuffed animal. "Let's go find us a jackpot."

There had been no jackpots that night, and no huge wins or losses at the card tables, either. But they'd all had some fun, and when they'd parted to go to their separate rooms, Sam had advised that he would make a couple of calls in the morning to see if they could charter a plane.

Gail propped the stuffed elephant up on the desk. "Angela's going to love him," Cas said to her. "It was very sweet of you to think of her."

She gave her husband a half-shrug. "I just remember how much Ralph and the others meant to me, growing up. I know it sounds silly now, but they were my friends. I could tell them anything. All my little secrets. Whatever they may have been at the time," she added with a faint smile.

Cas put his arms around her. "I don't think it's silly at all. I think it's very sweet. Just as you are." He kissed her on the mouth, and her smile grew. "Maybe I should move our new friend elsewhere," she quipped. "I'm not sure if he should be seeing what comes next." She kissed Cas again, using her tongue, and he unzipped her dress. She let it fall off her shoulders, onto the floor.

"I've been wanting to do this ever since I saw you in that tiny bathing suit," Cas said, caressing her skin. He leaned down and kissed her neck.

She smiled. "Well, maybe I'll put it on for you sometime, when we're not out in public," she said playfully.

"I would like that," Cas responded in kind. "I would like that very much." He undid her bra in the back and she helped him to unbutton his shirt. They shared another intimate kiss, and then they shed the rest of their clothes.

Cas took Gail's hand and led her to the end of the bed. He waited for a moment, to see if she was going to indicate a clear preference. But this time, she wanted him to take the lead. So he gently maneuvered her to stand facing the bed, and he asked her to lean forward. She did as he asked, and he caught her around the waist with one arm, opening her legs with the other hand. He entered her from behind, holding her close to him as he moved slowly in and out of her.

"Is this all right?" he asked her softly, his breath tickling her ear.

"Oh, yes," she told him, open-mouthed.

He started to move faster, and he caressed her breasts lightly with his free hand. "I'm so lucky," Cas murmured. "Other men may look at you, but I'm the only one who gets to make love to you."

"That's right," she agreed, smiling. "I feel the same way. Other women can look at you all they want, but I'm the only one who gets to touch you, and kiss you, and feel you inside of me."

He licked her ear and then his free hand moved between her legs, and she cried out. He pressed her to him as he thrust forward, groaning loudly.

After a moment, Cas withdrew from her and turned her around to face him. He eased her down onto her back and knelt down on the floor, nudging her legs open with his head. He placed his hands on her rear end and pulled her closer to his mouth, giving her a long, slow lick. "I love you," he told her, looking her in the eyes. Then he went to work on her with that marvelous tongue of his, and she threw her head back on the bed, saying his name, and telling him that she loved him too, so much.

Once she'd calmed down for the first time, she caressed his head, threading her fingers through his hair. "I think we should visit the ocean more often," she said teasingly. "I like what the sea air does to you."

"I'm glad you feel that way, because there is something else I wanted to do, if you don't mind," he said to her.

"Anything you want, Cas," she replied. Gail could talk empowerment all she wanted, but she loved it when Cas took the lead in the bedroom. There was nothing she could think of that she wanted to do here that he wasn't more than willing to do, anyway. And she loved that he was not afraid of a little variety. It was good to know that, after a number of years together, he could still excite her as much as he did.

Suddenly, he winked them out to the terrace. They were still nude, but Cas had brought the bedsheet to cover them. Gail glanced around nervously for a moment, but she had nothing to worry about. The terrace was very private, and their room was facing the ocean.

"You were correct. I thought we might enjoy some fresh ocean air, together," Cas said, smiling. He laid himself down on the chaise lounge and gently pulled her to lay down on top of him. They kissed for a while, and then Cas began to move underneath her. She threw off the sheet and slid down, taking him in her mouth. He moaned softly, and his hands went to her head. She took him in one hand, moving him in and out of her mouth, and he moaned again, saying her name.

"Come here, please," he said, but she shook her head. "Nope. We'll definitely do that later," she told him. "But right now, we're doing this." Then she went back to what she'd been doing, and Cas lay his head back, closing his eyes. He felt incredible. She was so loving; so giving. He started to move, thrusting himself upwards, into her mouth. She was controlling the rhythm now, so all he had to do was abandon himself to her. He moaned again, telling her how much he loved her.

A moment later, Gail lay on top of her husband, pulling the sheet over both of them. Cas wrapped his arms around her, cuddling her. "Whatever we may face here, I just wanted to tell you that you have made me the happiest individual in existence," Cas said, kissing her gently on the forehead.

Gail had been laying contentedly with her head on his chest, but now, she raised herself up to look at his face. "What are you doing now?" she asked him sharply. "What's this? You'd better not be giving me the goodbye speech."

"The last time we faced Raguel - " Cas started to say, but Gail cut him off. "Nope. No. I don't want to hear it, Cas. We're not doing that. The next time we see him, he's one dead Archangel. I don't care, Cas. I'm not losing you again. Got it?"

"Yes, I've got it," he said softly. Then, he smiled. "You're cute when you're angry at me."

She eyed him balefully. "You know that a statement like that is just going to make me angry, right?"

"Is it?" he said innocently.

She gave up. He was the one who was being cute now, not her. Still, unless she wanted to start one of those sickening couples-in-love "fights" about who was cuter, Gail figured she'd better change the subject. So she started to caress his torso, and his hands went to her rear end. When she felt that he was ready, she guided him into her and they made love that way for a while. Cas's hands moved to her hips, and he started to move her up and down. Then his hands went to her breasts, and he caressed them lightly. It was wonderful to make love this way, in Cas's opinion, because he could touch her all over, and he could look at her face. But eventually, Cas knew he would need to be on top, because he needed to move faster, and because he knew she liked it best when he took charge like that. So he switched their positions and lifted her legs over his shoulders, driving forward into her.

Gail was loving what Cas was doing now. Not only did it feel amazing, but she liked being able to look at him, too. His handsome face, smiling down at her. His muscular arms, flexing as he shifted her position until he had it just right, for her maximum pleasure. His hands, both soft and strong, caressing her skin. He reached in-between her legs and stroked her with one long finger as he pushed in and out of her, and she shouted loudly, out of pure joy.

He winked them both back into the bedroom as they finished, clinging to each other. Once they got their breath back, Gail smiled lazily. "I hope I didn't scare any seagulls," she said, kissing Cas's face.

He laughed softly. "I love it when you express your happiness so freely," he remarked, smiling warmly at her.

"Well, if you keep on doing what you do the way you do it, there'll be a lot of expressions of happiness in your future," she said, stretching languorously.

"Good," Cas said, kissing her on the mouth. "Good."

2 - BARBADOS - EVERYTHING IS BEAUTIFUL

All four of them met at breakfast the next morning, and Sam reported that he'd already been in touch with a local island charter company and hired a small plane, along with a pilot, to take them to Barbados. Once he and Dean finished eating, they would all check out, grab a cab, and go to the airport, which was a few miles from there.

Cas and Gail were in a very happy and romantic mood. Despite the reason they had come down here in the first place, so far the trip was feeling very much like a real honeymoon, something they'd never had.

Gail was smirking at Dean now. He obviously wasn't used to seeing so many scantily clad women walking around, especially not this early in the morning. She teased him about getting whiplash, looking in all directions around him at all the pretty women.

"'Let-me-see-that-thong'," Gail sang, poking him. "I think I might know somebody whose girlfriend is getting a string bikini for Christmas."

"I never thought we'd see you in a bathing suit, Cas," Sam remarked with a grin.

"I don't believe I've ever seen Dean in shorts and flip-flops before," Cas commented.

"I've got some Hawaiian shirts that are so loud you're gonna have to yell if you want to talk to me," Dean quipped, and Gail laughed again.

"Thanks for the warning," she said to him. "Maybe when we get to Barbados, I'll have to buy a pair of sunglasses."

But when they got to Barbados several hours later, sunglasses were the last things on Gail's mind.

It never ceased to amuse the Winchesters that their Angel friends were nervous to fly in planes. That had annoyed Gail at first, because she knew that Dean hated to fly, himself. But now that she knew him so well, she realized that maybe Dean's teasing them was a way for him to cope with his own nerves.

When they'd gotten to the airport in the Bahamas, which was really little more than a hangar and an airfield, Gail was eyeing the tiny airplanes suspiciously. Did these people really think they could load three giant men, one adult woman and a pilot of indeterminate size, plus a bunch of bags, and expect these planes to stay up in the air?

"Hi, guys," a young man with long, scraggly blonde hair said to the group. "I'm Zach. Are you the people that called about Barbados?"

"Yeah, I called," Sam said. "There's the four of us, and our bags, here. Do those planes have the capability to take the combined weight?"

"I don't see why not," Zach replied, "but we do have a weight restriction, so if you'll come inside, we'll weigh your bags, and I'll do the calculation."

They followed him into the hangar, and Dean said, "So, is it your dad who's the pilot?"

Zach laughed. "Nahhh. Come on, man. I'm the pilot."

Dean's jaw dropped. "What are you, like, fifteen?"

"I'm twenty-two, brah," Zach said with a grin.

"Did he just call Dean a brassiere?" Cas asked Sam quietly, and the younger Winchester laughed. Zach weighed their bags as Dean took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Then the young man appraised them all. "What do you go, about 230?" he asked Sam.

"Yeah, give or take five to ten pounds," Sam agreed, nodding.

Zach's eyes flicked to each man in turn, doing a mental calculation. Then he looked at Gail. "I'd be very, very careful with your next question, if I were you," she said to the young pilot, and the men all smiled.

Zach opened his mouth, then closed it again. "OK, ready to roll?" he said to the group.

As they all walked out to the airfield, the pilot said, "These are fairly small planes, what we call 'puddle-jumpers'. Weather looks clear today, so we shouldn't have much buffeting. But it'll be a little cramped. It's a four-seater, so you guys can arrange yourselves." He grinned. "If you weren't all good friends getting on the plane, you'll be best friends when you get off of it. Just a little island plane humour."

"That's all right," Cas said, taking Gail's hand. "My wife can sit on my lap."

"Man, how come it's always her who gets to sit on your lap?" Sam joked. "Maybe I want to sit on your lap, for a change."

"You? Your legs are gonna be up to your ears, Sammy. So are mine," Dean said, looking slightly green.

"Here, give me your bags," Zach said affably, opening the cargo hold. He grinned again. "Can I trust you not to have any ganja in here? Strictly speaking, we're not supposed to transport the stuff. Well, not unless you're prepared to share, anyway," he added.

"No, we have nothing like that," Cas assured the young man.

"Okie-dokie," Zach said, closing the cargo hold. "Welcome to Island Airlines. She's not big or fancy, and there's no in-flight movie, but we'll get you there in one piece. Well, unless there's a tropical storm, that is. Then we're all screwed."

"Shouldn't you know if there's a tropical storm in the area?" Dean said nervously.

"I'm sure they take that into consideration when they do the flight plan, Dean," Sam said calmly. He looked at Zach. "You have Doppler, right? Or the NWS?"

"Aaahhh, I don't need that stuff," Zach assured them. "I'm an island guy. This is my weather forecast, right here." He licked one of his fingers and held it up. "Yeah. Calm. Let's go."

The blood drained from Dean's face. Teenage surfer dude here had to be kidding with that. "Uhhhh...maybe we'll just stay here in the Bahamas for another couple of days," he said, starting to back away slowly.

"Relax, dude. I'm just kidding," Zach said, grinning again. "Look, I see the way you're looking at me. So I'm young; so what? I'm a certified pilot. I take hundreds of tourists from island to island every year. Maybe even thousands. Not one casualty yet. Well, not unless you count that guy from Florida who brought his teddy bear on board. He said it was a comfort thing. I just said, okie-dokie, man. I don't judge. But then, he started talking to the thing, calling it 'Ted'. Still, I didn't say anything, even though the guy was, like, in his fourties. But then, when Ted started talking back to him, I landed on the next island and told him he had to get the hell out."

"Ted was talking back?" Sam asked curiously. "The stuffed toy?"

Zach gave him an indulgent look. "Yeah, right. The bear was talking. No, dude. It was the guy, talking out loud, in a different voice. Too weird for me, man."

They all exchanged bemused glances. "Ted, huh?" Dean said, his lips twitching now.

"Yeah. Ted." Zach opened the plane's small passenger door. "Everybody in. Biggest guy, first. Then hubby, and your lady here'll be last to go." He nudged Dean. "You're up front with me, Sport. You look like you're the one who's most likely to puke, so I'm gonna keep an eye on you. People who get sick in planes tend to feel worse, if they sit in the back."

Dean glared at him, but then they all entered the plane, arranging themselves as the pilot had requested. It was cramped enough to be slightly uncomfortable for everyone, but things weren't unbearable, so they made do. Ordinarily, Cas might have called a conference with his friends and suggested he and Gail just wink them over there, but there were here now, and he was kind of looking forward to seeing the beauty of the scenery from up above. Besides, Gail was arranging herself on his lap now, and as Cas put his arms around her waist, he realized that there was something to be said for travelling the human way.

As Zach began to perform his pre-flight routine, he said, "My cousin owns a hotel in Barbados. He's from the rich part of the family. But I don't hold that against him. We've all got our own destinies in life. If you're looking for a place to stay, I'll call him, and he'll set you up. Gratis. If you survive this flight, that is," he added, grinning at Dean.

The flight took just over two hours, and it had been a little bouncy, but otherwise, uneventful. Zach helped them to unload their bags, and the men all shook his hand and thanked him for the safe flight.

"Piece o' cake, man," the young pilot said affably. He took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Dean. "Give me a call, if you need another pickup." He looked past them. "Oh, hey, here's your ride, now."

They all turned around to see a town car pulling up. A chauffeur got out and said, "Hey, Zach. Mister D says hi."

Zach grinned again. "Hey, Benny. How's it hanging?"

"Same old, same old," Benny replied. He stepped forward to grab the group's bags, and then he snapped his fingers. "Crap! I almost forgot! Which one of you is Cas?"

"I am," Cas said, his brow furrowing.

"I have a note for you," the chauffeur said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope.

The four of them exchanged puzzled glances. What the hell was this, now? "'Enjoy your afternoon'," Cas read aloud. "'Then, at five o'clock, take the hotel shuttle to Island Charter Boats, and the proprietor will take you for a short scuba cruise. Welcome to Barbados'."

"OK, what's going on, here?" Dean asked suspiciously. "Where did you get that envelope?" he asked Benny.

The chauffeur shrugged. "The Concierge called me to the Front Desk, and he gave it to me and told me to bring it. That's all I know."

"The question I have is: how did whoever wrote the note even know we were coming on this plane, and planning on staying at that resort?" Sam mused aloud. "There were several charter companies I could have called, and it just so happened that we met Zach, whose cousin owns the hotel where that note was apparently sitting, just waiting for Cas. How is that even possible?"

None of them had any idea, but they decided to go with it, at least for now. So they said their goodbyes to Zach, and got in the car.

They were all sitting around the pool a short while later, whiling away the time until they were supposed to go to the scuba boat. It was funny, really; they had come down here all loaded for bear, ready to track down Vincent and have a potentially deadly confrontation with at least one of their mortal enemies, and now suddenly, they were on a relaxing tropical vacation.

"You know, despite the fact that we have no idea what we're doing, and despite it being about a hundred degrees in the shade here, I've been having a very good time," Gail remarked.

Cas regarded her. It was strange, because he was feeling exactly the same way. Normally, he would be extremely agitated; paranoid, even. Looking around every corner and behind every bush for a potential attacker, or any kind of threat. But ever since he had resigned the High Office and he and Gail had been remarried, Cas had felt much more relaxed. Light-hearted, really, as if he felt like nothing could possibly harm them. Was this what a normal existence felt like?

But it wouldn't do to get too complacent, either. Although their circumstances seemed quite benign at the moment, Cas knew that could change very quickly.

Still, when an activities director came around, asking if anyone was interested in attending a ballroom dancing lesson in fifteen minutes, Gail looked briefly at Cas. But she didn't say anything, because in her experience, men didn't like to dance. At least, not the men in her circle, anyway.

But, Cas surprised her. "Is that something that you would like to do, my love?" he asked her, taking her hand.

"Well, since we have to wait around anyway, I just thought it could be a fun way to pass the time," she said hesitantly. "You know how much I like music, and I like to dance, too. Maybe you and I will go someplace sometime where we'll have the opportunity to dance. But, only if you want to. I don't want to force you."

"You remember what I told you about guys who dance, right?" Dean cautioned Cas.

Cas's forehead wrinkled. "No, Dean. I don't think I do."

"That's because they don't," Dean said. "Guys. Don't. Dance."

"Oh, yeah?" Gail said tartly. "Then, who are all the women dancing WITH?"

"From what I've seen, other women, mainly," Dean retorted.

"Or themselves, if they're really drunk," Sam wisecracked.

Gail rolled her eyes. "I don't remember asking you guys for your opinion. All I know is, if you've ever seen the dancing on that TV show, there are lots of good-looking guys on there, and the dancing is hot. Ask Nicole or Quinn about that, sometime. See what they say."

"Those couples are very talented," Cas told the brothers. He stood from his chair, extending his hand to Gail again. "I would love to learn how to dance like that with you."

"Oh, come on," Dean lamented. "Are you actually trying to tell us that the guys on that show aren't all...uh...Barry and Tommy?"

Gail took Cas's hand, shrugging. "All I know is that Cas is here with me, and you guys are here with each other. Make of that what you will," she said sassily, as Cas led her away.

A short while later, the Angels were back from their lesson.

"How's it going, Twinkletoes?" Dean taunted Cas. "Ready to get back to being a man, now?"

Cas ignored him. He pulled up a chaise lounge for Gail to sit on, and he asked her if she wanted a cold drink. When she told him she would, he hastened over to the bar.

"I wish you wouldn't give Cas such a hard time," Gail said to Dean. "What's wrong with him having a little fun?"

"Nothing," Dean shot back, "as long as you're not trying to turn him into a woman."

Gail shook her head in frustration. "Are you even hearing yourself right now? Why on Earth would I want Cas to be a woman?"

"Bingo! Pool Bingo!" the activities director sang out. He stopped by Gail. "You're going to play, right, Senora?"

She shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" The young man gave her a card and a handful of plastic chips to mark the numbers, and then he looked at the Winchesters. "Don't bother," Gail said sarcastically. "They're way too manly to play."

As Cas came back with Gail's drink, Sam started to smile. He beckoned to Dean while Gail was distracted and said something to his brother, making Dean grin and then nod.

The Bingo game started, and Dean edged his chair a little closer to where Gail was sitting. He waited until she needed just one more number on her card, and then he said, "I'm sorry about earlier."

"Huh? What?" Gail said. She was concentrating, now. She only needed one more number to win...what? She had no idea. But she didn't even care. She only needed one more number!

"I said, I'm sorry," Dean repeated, nudging her.

"Yeah, yeah. OK. What was that number? B13, or B14?" she said to him.

"I'm pretty sure it was B14," Dean said innocently.

"Bingo!" Gail yelled excitedly.

The activities director had been walking slowly around the pool, and now he called out, "We have a Bingo! Hold your cards, everybody!" Then he hurried over to where Gail was sitting, and called out the numbers of her Bingo.

"That's an incorrect Bingo," the caller said cheerfully. "You know what happens next!"

"No, what happens next?" Gail asked, puzzled.

"Pool! Pool! Pool! Pool!" everybody started to chant, and Gail looked around nervously. Then, it dawned on her. Dammit.

"Sorry, Senora. Those are the rules of Pool Bingo," the young man told her, shrugging. "If you call out an incorrect Bingo, you go in the pool. We give you one chance to go in voluntarily, otherwise..." He gestured.

Sam and Dean were laughing now, as Gail glared at them. "You guys suck," she told them, and then she sighed. Oh, well, what the hell? She had time to change before they had to leave, and if she went in voluntarily, Cas wouldn't have to rescue her.

So she slipped out of her sandals, walked to the shallow end of the pool, said, "Goodbye, Cruel World," and jumped in.

Everybody hooted and hollered as the Winchesters high-fived each other. Gail stood up in the pool immediately, so Cas would see that she was all right. Then she waded over to the short ladder, climbed the rungs to get out of the pool, and stalked back over to where the men sat. She didn't say anything, just stood there, dripping, looking at the brothers.

"Aw, crap. We're dead men," Dean said nervously.

But Gail merely continued to stand there and stare. Finally, she looked at Cas. "They think you're effeminate, because you went with me to take a dancing lesson," she told her husband.

"To be fair, it was Dean who said that, not me," Sam piped up.

"Is that so?" Cas said in response to Gail's remark. He stood, reaching for her hand. "Well, I'll tell you what. We still have a little over an hour until that bus comes to take us to the boat, and we have to get you dried off, and into fresh clothes. That should be plenty of time for you to determine whether I'm effeminate, or not."

Gail took his hand, smiling slowly. "Thanks, Dean," she said pertly, as Cas led her away.

The bus arrived promptly at five o'clock.

"Island Charter Boats?" Cas asked the driver, who nodded. "Yes, Monsieur. Please, be my guest to get on the bus."

Gail was bemused. The activities director had called her "Senora", and now this man was using a French salutation. She guessed they had people coming here from all over the world. She had noticed, though, that nearly all of the staff at the places they'd stayed so far were black, while most of the guests were white. She wondered what Paul would have to say about that.

A short bus ride later, they were delivered to the place where the boats were moored, and an older man introduced himself as the captain of a charter boat called Waves. Gail hoped that wasn't an omen.

"I'll take you out for an hour or so," Captain Abbott said. "Those of you who'd like to dive can do so. I've got all the equipment on board. Or, if you just want to relax and enjoy the serenity of the open waters, you can do that, as well." He grinned. "I've got the 'equipment' for that too, in a cooler below decks."

"How much do I owe you?" Cas said, reaching for his wallet. But the Captain shook his head. "Don't worry. It's already been taken care of," he told them. "But, we'd better get going now. It might rain in a couple of hours, or worse." He turned around and got on the boat as the four of them exchanged glances. The skies looked perfectly clear to them. Was he just saying that, as an excuse to deflect any questions they might have?

But they followed him onto the boat, after the shuttle bus driver advised he would be there to take them back to the hotel after their cruise ended.

Once they were out to sea, Sam stood from his chair. "Who's up for a dive?" he said enthusiastically.

"I would like to do that," Cas said.

"I'm good," Dean said. He had already availed himself of the contents of the Captain's cooler, and he'd never been that big on swimming, anyway.

"I'll stay here and keep Dean company," Gail said quickly. Seeing as she couldn't swim, there was no way she was going diving in the ocean. Angel or not, she was still in a vessel, and that vessel wasn't interested in drowning.

Sam put the full scuba gear on, but Cas elected to just strip to his bathing suit and use a snorkeling mask. Truth be told, he probably didn't even need that. But even though the Captain had pretty much left them to their own devices, Cas didn't want to arouse the man's suspicions.

"Have fun, you guys," Gail said, rummaging around in the cooler. Even though there was a bit of a breeze, she still felt warm. Maybe a cold drink would help.

She took out a cooler and twisted the cap off, clinking bottles with Dean as Sam and Cas slipped into the water and dove down. The two of them drank companionably in silence for a few minutes, and then, Cas surfaced. "Come, look at this," he said to Gail. She picked up her chair and moved it closer to the edge. He was holding a medium-sized object, bright pink in colour, that kind of resembled the head of a mop.

"What's that?" she asked him, curious.

"It's a sea anemone," he told her. "There are all manner of them here, in different hues. I thought you might like to see one of the more vibrant ones, since you are unable to join me."

Gail smiled warmly at her husband. He was always so thoughtful. "It's very nice, Cas," she said to him. "What is it, some kind of a flower?"

"No, it's a marine animal. A predator," Cas replied.

"Get outta here," Dean said. Now he got up and moved his chair closer, dragging the cooler with him. "That thing's a predator?"

"Yes, Dean," Cas responded. "Sea anemones resemble anemones, which are flower-like plants. When fish swim by, the sea anemone attacks."

"Hey, I think that's what happened to Nemo's mother," Dean remarked, taking a drink. Gail looked at him curiously, and he shrugged.

She smiled. "Well, it's like I always say: keep your friends close, and your anemones closer."

Cas smiled, but Dean groaned. "Really, Gail?" he said. "Really?"

"Come on!" she said, laughing at her own pun. "If Frank was here, he'd be giving me a high-five."

Dean muttered something about giving her face a high-five, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Thanks for showing me, sweetie," she said to Cas. "It's really neat."

"I'll be back," he said, and he dove down again.

"I wonder where Sam is," Gail said idly, peering into the water.

"He's got the tank on, so he probably won't be back for at least half an hour," Dean said.

Gail nodded. Actually, that made sense.

A few minutes later, Cas came back up, and this time, he was holding a flat sea creature that looked kind of like a kite with a tail.

"Holy crap!" Dean exclaimed. "Is that a stingray?"

Cas smiled. "Yes, it is, Dean. Isn't it a wondrous creature?"

"Ummm...you might want to watch that stinger there at the end, Buddy," Dean said, moving his chair back slightly. Cas had hauled the creature up on deck so they could see it better.

"Don't worry, Dean," Cas said. "I talked to it, and told it not to sting."

Gail smiled now. She'd almost forgotten that her husband could do that. She looked at Dean now. "But, in case you don't remember, I have the ability to make animals attack," she said to him pertly. "So, I wouldn't screw with me right now, if I were you."

He looked at her suspiciously as Cas said, "Isn't it marvellous? Sometimes, I am reminded of how wonderful Father's creations truly are. I just wanted to share some of the sights I am seeing with both of you. Oh, and in case you were wondering about Sam, he's fine. I saw him further down, exploring. He has enough air for at least half an hour, but I will keep an eye on him, don't worry. There are all manner of creatures here."

Before the two of them had the chance to ask what kind of creatures he was talking about, Cas had dived back into the water with the stingray.

"I wonder what else is down there," Gail said nervously, taking a gulp of her drink.

"Million bucks he brings a shark up, next," Dean joked. At least, he hoped he was joking.

Gail looked startled. "He's not going to..." she started to say, and then she thought about it. "He's bringing a shark up here, isn't he?" she said to Dean, edging her chair away from the side of the boat.

"Hey, he's your husband," Dean said, as if that had anything to do with anything. He was backing his chair up now, too. "Maybe we should tell Captain Crunch, or whatever his name is, to drop the motor and get us the hell out of here."

Suddenly, Cas surfaced again, and as they had feared, he had a shark with him.

"Holy crap, Cas!" Dean exclaimed. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"It's fine, Dean," Cas assured him, patting the shark on its snout. It had been thrashing around in his arms, but as soon as he did that, it was still. "I'm going to open your mouth now, but you will not bite," Cas said to it. He pried the shark's jaws open. "Look at the teeth. Aren't they magnificent?"

"What are you doing?" Captain Abbott shouted from behind Gail and Dean. "That's a tiger shark!"

The shark started to thrash around again, but Cas told it to calm down, and again, it became still.

"Well, I'll be damned," the Captain said, amazed. "What are you, the Shark Whisperer, or something?"

Cas smiled, stroking the shark's head. "I simply appreciate all of God's creatures, for what they are," he said.

"Yeah, well, maybe you can do your appreciating back down there, in the ocean," the man said irascibly. "If one of you gets bitten on my boat, I'm the one who's liable."

"He's right, Cas. You showed it to us, we've seen it, and it smiled at us. Now, what do you say you take it back to where it came from?" Dean said, his teeth on edge.

Just then, Sam surfaced. He took the mouthpiece out and said, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes, Sam, it's a tiger shark," Cas said calmly. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Sure, Cas," Sam said, and now he sounded nervous, too. "But it looks like he's got a pretty big family gathering going on down there, and they all look a little bit too interested in us. So, what do you say we call it?"

"All right, Sam," Cas agreed. He let the shark go, and it swam off. Sam hoisted himself up on deck, then extended his hand to Cas, helping his friend onto the boat.

Now that Sam was safely on board, he was grinning at Dean. "You should see your face," he teased his brother.

"What? I was worried about Gail," Dean said defensively.

"Then why is your chair behind hers?" Sam asked him pointedly.

Cas grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off, looking at Gail. "You know that no harm would have befallen you," he said, but he didn't elaborate, because the Captain was still standing there.

After a moment, Captain Abbott spoke. "I just got a report that there's a storm system moving in a little quicker than I originally thought, so we'll have to return now," he told them. "Sorry to cut your trip short."

"That's OK; all this fresh sea air is making me hungry, anyway," Dean said. He would much rather be the eater than the eat-ee, he thought. If they let Cas dive for much longer, who the hell knew what he would bring up next? A killer whale? A school of piranha, maybe?

The Captain nodded, retreating below deck.

"Not that I didn't enjoy that, but what was the point of sending us out here?" Sam asked the group, unzipping his wet suit.

Gail was wondering the same thing as Cas brought another couple of deck chairs over for himself and Sam to sit in. "I'll be right back," Cas said. "Sam and I left our clothing down below, so it would stay dry."

"Thanks, Cas," Sam said. He opened the cooler and took out a soda to drink.

A minute or two later, Cas was back, and he was frowning. He was holding the bundle of clothes in one arm, and a white envelope in the other. "This is becoming very strange," Cas informed his friends. He gave Sam his clothes. "This envelope was sitting propped up on the bench where we left our clothes. Obviously, it was not there before, or we would have seen it. I confronted Captain Abbott, and he said he knows nothing about it." He handed it to Gail. "Can you read it, please, while Sam and I dress?"

She opened the envelope. "'Trust that you are enjoying your vacation? Now, it's off to Jamaica. Zach will be back for you in the morning'," Gail read aloud. She looked up at the others, open-mouthed. "That's it. 'Enjoy your vacation'," she said, shaking her head. "What the hell? Are we here to find the bad guys, or are we just some anonymous person's island-hopping puppets?"

"I don't know, but I've gotta admit, I've been having one helluva time," Dean remarked.

Cas was looking out to the horizon. They'd been skeptical earlier, but now, he could see the black clouds forming off in the distance, signaling the oncoming storm. There was a change in the air, too. As the boat headed back to shore, he thought that what they were experiencing now, versus what he saw and smelled coming their way, was very apt: the fabled calm, before the storm.

"What are you thinking about, Cas?" Dean asked his friend, seeing the troubled look on his face.

"I'm thinking that we should try to enjoy ourselves as much as possible in the next day or so," Cas said grimly, taking Gail's hand. "There is a storm coming, and I fear it will be a very bad one."

Vincent was sitting cross-legged on the beach, his face tilted up towards the sky. The storm had already started where he was located, and he was reveling in it. The black clouds, the high winds, and the hard, heavy rain, pouring down. Just as Cas enjoyed the feel of the sun and the light sea breeze on his face, Vincent was enjoying the storm.

It wouldn't be long now. He'd been enjoying watching the four of them jumping through his hoops. Following his instructions, like the good little lackeys they were. They thought they had come here to find him, maybe even to kill him. Perhaps they'd forgotten that he still had dozens of children out there, whose very existences assured his continued one. But, as evidenced by the black scorch mark on his face, even though he was immortal, he wasn't invulnerable. That was why, as soon as their transaction was completed here, Vincent was going to pay a certain young woman a visit, and impregnate her with The Son. The one that would rise above all others, and squash them all like bugs. And none of them would ever see it coming. Already, their ranks were thinning. Castiel and his massive ego had gotten a few of them killed by mounting that fruitless raid on Hell, and if Vincent's son-in-law didn't learn from that experience, that would only be the beginning. The Angels thought that their love was powerful enough to overcome any obstacle, but in Vincent's experience, hate was even more powerful. When Vincent had visited Fergus in that dingy Scottish pub all those centuries ago, it was hate which had fueled the curse that had dogged the trio all of these years since. It was the gift that kept on giving. And if Castiel thought that Crowley had forgotten or forgiven his brother for the incursion into Hell and the torture and attempted assassination of the King, he would soon learn otherwise. Crowley burned with the need for vengeance, so much so that he was seriously contemplating the most radical of all moves: an alliance with his mother. She had the codices; Crowley had the codex. Rowena had been extremely upset with Gail's perceived betrayal of her, in New Orleans. And Bobby Singer, the only man Rowena had ever had any feelings for, was God again.

Vincent continued to drink in the storm, almost as if it were a power source. Which, in a way, it was. There was nothing he liked better than turmoil. Death, destruction, and pain. Lots and lots of pain.

"Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon, Gail," Vincent said, smiling happily.

\- END OF BOOK 36. -


End file.
